


What's Left to Say?

by Nael06



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Back to "Normal Life", Based on the Movies, Canonical Character Death, Depressed Newt, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I just wanted a happy ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Insomnia, M/M, Minho Ships It, Newt (Maze Runner) Lives, Oblivious Thomas, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Safe Haven (Maze Runner), Sassy Minho, Sorry Not Sorry, Yes... Another One
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-06-07 00:05:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 49,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15206453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nael06/pseuds/Nael06
Summary: The moment Minho's feet touched the sand, he thought it was over; No more WCKD, no more running, no more pain, if only his best friends would wake up. Thinking it would be the solution to everything that is going wrong with him, Minho awaits and continues to believe a happy ending for all of them is possible.But hope and courage only got the Gladers so far on the run, now they need a new strategy as they have to face a much more twisted enemy; a normal, peaceful life.Or Thomas gets a second chance at actually dealing with his feelings for Newt but overthinks it. Or Minho and Brenda (aka the power couple) decide to help their friends before Gally punches one of them.Meanwhile, Vince still doesn't know how he ended up in charge of this mess...





	1. Waking Up Slow

 

Newt could not remember how long he had been laying here. Even if asked, he couldn't have given a rough estimate.

Days? Hours? Weeks?

That idea made him feel sickly dizzy. There was nothing he could do. He had been laying still for too long. His chest rose, stretching the muscles and cracking his ribs open. There was something so irregular about it, painful as if something was hiding under the bones, nestled where his lungs should be. There was something damp, sticking the air to the flesh.

For some insane reasons his body carried on, forcing the air in and out uselessly, like a pump forcing on a pierced tyre. Newt was chocking after each breath, as if always unable to cough up the water. Every breath should have been the last but somehow the ribs kept on rising inexorably filling the lungs of fire again and again.

His eyes would open from time to time, but it was not of much help for the questions running inside his head. Whatever was happening around him, there was always too much light or too much darkness for him to understand. It got him thinking; the air against his skin was fresh, salty and bright, not bitter, nor sandy, nor filled with smoke. Everything was quiet around him, no explosion, no screams. Those little things kept on bothering him. The heat, the burning sensation under his skin, and a slightly panicked settling right on the edge of his conscience.

Something alarming, something terribly wrong was bothering him. There was something he needed to remember.

One thing, he should not forget. Some kind of echo reasoning in his bones. 

His breathing quickened every time he got close, pain spreading faster and deeper. A wet material was pressed on his forehead and Newt wanted to push it away but gravity was anchoring his limbs down. He did not need bloody distractions, it was hard enough trying to focus on those voices.

There was this one thing, he had to remember.

Anger ran through his body and it was almost too familiar. Familiar in an bittersweet way, a bit like the sight of the tents in the Glade, the smile of his friends runners leaving for the maze, Alby staring at sunrise, or hugging Minho and Thomas in the last city. Not only that anger was familiar, but it felt dangerous. Something was different with that uncontrollable anger. It was wrong, coming from the same root from that panicky feeling. 

He had to remember because whatever this was, it was awful, it wasn't just a nightmare. It was real.

It felt like seeing the gates of the maze stay open at the end of the day, it was watching Minho get dragged away by WCKD, or running up staircase through the fever knowing that if he gave up now Newt will condemn his two best friends. It was like holding a gun to his head before Thomas pushed it off his hands…

Thomas…

The changing, the cranks, the last city, the flare, Thomas. It all felt so clear. He remembered the city, seeing Minho run off to get the cure but it was too late. They didn’t want to listen, it was too late. Thomas was in danger, because of him. He had to stop, leave Thomas alone.

Newt gasped for air so suddenly it was as if he tore his skin open again, sending pain from his shoulders down to his stomach resonating deep in his bones. His hands moved up but something was holding them down. He needed to stop. They didn't understand! He was going to hurt Thomas. He was going to do it! 

‘Tommy, kill me,’ he begged. His voice felt foreign, not because of the begging nor the rabid conviction but the coaxing admission behind it. Thomas had to understand it was the only way he could survive. He had to understand that Newt accepted it, but that he was not ready to accept Thomas risking his life for him, for what was left of him.

Thomas had to let him go now or all of this would have been worthless. There was no way out. ‘Just kill me.’

"Just kill me!"

Why does Tommy never bloody listen?

He just had to let him die. His eyes did not want to open. He fought to stay awake. He repeated it again and again, even when he started to lose his footing again and even when he wasn’t really sure why he was saying those words, or what it meant. Newt just knew he had to remember.

Don’t hurt him.

Don’t hurt Tommy.

 

Don’t-

 

 

* * *

 

 

Minho sat back down on the beach.

He needed a good news. He needed some about right now. Just one, just a little bit of hope. He really deserved it by now. Anything, he took his head in his hands breathing out as much as he could, hoping it would help his body relax.

“You look tired,” muttered Brenda coming up just behind him. She smiled softly, “Long night?”

They all had long nights, thought Minho, but it did not matter how she built the question, the invitation was there, to pour his worries out. It was something they took on doing since they arrived. It was relieving for both of them, just to say it all out loud with no fear, without expecting answers nor a solution.

When they first arrived to the Safe Haven, Minho had found himself utterly alone. Well, that was not exactly true, but his best friends, his family, weren’t here. He couldn’t look at the other Gladers without thinking about what he’d lost. Others on the camp were nothing to him in those moment, he couldn’t focus on the present. Gally was busy with construction and Frypan with the food. They all found a place but Minho had to recover, had to deal with what happened. Sure… Like Minho had time for that! Instead he spend his days running from Thomas to Newt’s beds back to Brenda, trying to understand, trying to imagine living forever with the guilt of having caused the death of his best friends.

It was like Minho still had one feet in the last city, holding on unto that old hope most of them left behind. That dirty and bitter hope they had because there was no other way. To survive they had to believe they could make it out alive, that they could do anything. But the other feet was here, anchored in reality. It was not the same world, this normal life. Everything was so bright, more real almost. Everything was harsh, the sun, the sand and the salt. It was a crashing reality that everybody was learning to live with. Nobody was pulling stunts to save others, no more sudden adrenaline rush, no more uncalled laughter or jumping off skyscrapers. Now, it was all too real. It was rigid and static.

There were no more miracles. But fuck, Minho needed a last one. Just one. He needed one last stunt.

“Come on,” teased Brenda walking around him. “Let it out.”

“He had another crisis,” explained Minho, wishing he did not have to say it out loud, wishing it wasn’t true. But Brenda was right, he couldn’t keep on bottling up. “I don’t think it’s working.”

Brenda came closer and sat down, diving her fingers in the sand. She did not look at his face but stare straight ahead at the sea, her leg brushing Minho’s. “You think Newt’s changing again?” she asked softly.

“I don’t know…” Minho gasped, clenching his hands in his hair. “He was talking, hallucinating again in his sleep. Maybe it’s not working.” Brenda held on, not taking her eyes away from the waves slowly crashing in front of them, even when Minho’s voice broke in anger and pain; “Maybe we should stop. Maybe we’re just torturing him. Maybe we should let him go.”

“We are not torturing him,” Brenda said coldly. “There’s no more trace of the illness on his skin. We need to give him time. We need to give Newt a chance to make it out.”

Minho did not react his eyes locked on the sea, hating how Brenda just knew, how she just understood what Minho was experiencing.

“WCKD’s gone. This is real. You need to remember that,” she insisted. “They can’t do to Newt what they did to you.”

 

Silent settled as Minho tried to gather his thoughts. “We shouldn’t have trusted the serum we found on Thomas,” said Minho. Brenda did not answer.

“Teresa could have planted it,” Minho laughed, it was bitter and dark, exactly how it had been in that city. That laugh was often used now to talk about then. It fit the uncertainty, the incoherence and chaos, but it was painful here. “We’re so stupid. It could easily have been another trick from WCKD. It was reckless to give Newt that serum,” continued Minho in frenzy. His eyes focused on the rocks in his hands, crushing them into his skin.“For all we know, she was the one who shot Thomas!”

“Minho,” chided Brenda. She tried to hold Minho’s hand but he flinched. “We did the best we could,” Brenda continued, remembering the panic once they got Thomas in the plane, just in time before the burning tower collapsed on itself.

It all happened so fast. Teresa fell and they had to leave. Brenda remembers Thomas’s blood soaking her t-shirt. He was bleeding everywhere, his face white, losing consciousness again and again. And Minho was exhausted and hurt. Newt was moving again, trashing in the back of the plane, losing the little of blood he had left. The cure they gave him wasn’t working as the changing was surely too advanced. It was only when finding the blue serum on Thomas as he mumbled something about Teresa that they suspected a possible solution for Newt. The decision they made had been a quick and rushed one. They put one and one together, and shot Newt with the blue liquid instead of a bullet that was coming soon as he started screaming and growling again. 

“There was no other way. We had to try it,” insisted Brenda. “And if it wasn’t a cure, Newt would have been a Crank by now. We might not know what it was, but there’s still a chance.”

A chance. The need to believe in last minute scenario. The same kind of hope that carried them here, it was that desperate hope that he hated so much.

Minho threw the rocks, and clenched his hands into fists. He wanted to run, to do something. He just wanted some good news, a sign, a little dose of sarcasm from Newt and some reckless moves from Thomas. He wanted his friends back, but he settled for a easy simple wish.

“I just want one of them to wake up already,” he whispered softly enough for Brenda to understand she was not the one suppose to hear it. Those words were for someone else, maybe a God, or anything above or under. Maybe there were for himself. Because maybe if one did awake up, maybe then, he could move on. “At least one of them,” repeated Minho like a mantra.

“I know,” answered Brenda, fighting back the tears. She understood too well the frustration and fear that has made them all hold back their breath all week long.

 

 

* * *

 

 

His eyes flashed open. It was so bright it made him nauseous with salt sticking to his eyelashes.

He tried to make sense of the surroundings. But everything came crashing back down. They were trying to get on the plane but something went wrong. Theresa, she did not make it. The thought of her just made Thomas hope he was not actually here. Maybe he was dead, but the pain in his body was to real. 

Everything went so wrong. They were almost safe but the building had to collapse and the last city had turned into ashes and fire.

The second name that came back took all that was left of his motivation to get up. They had lost so many people, but Newt had been the worst. He could have saved him. Exactly like Teresa it had been down to the seconds.

Thomas did not even want to think about it. He could not. Not now, not ever, even more so that he didn’t even know where he was. If he started thinking about his friend, how he remembered each delayed answered and each approximative move Newt made while trying to fight the illness.

He could remember exactly how his heart stopped when Newt put the gun against his own head. The blond’s hands iced cold and shaking from the fever against Thomas, confused and scared. He could still feel Newt’s panic under his own skin.

‘It’s okay, Newt. It’s okay,’ Thomas had promised.

But it wasn’t, God it wasn’t but Thomas wanted it to be. Newt was dying and Thomas was failing at everything. They both knew it. 

“It’s okay.”

He wanted Newt to calm down, him to feel as safe as possible, to stop tearing himself apart. Even if there was no way out of that one, Thomas was not going to let him feel so scared nor alone.

Thomas remembered holding his breathing when Newt’s body fell down powerless understanding for the first that nothing was going to be okay again.

And all of it because of Thomas.

Minho had been barely a second away. If Thomas just had fucking held one more second, it would have been enough.

He failed when his best friend needed him the most. The only moment it really mattered, which was down to the last second.

Thomas could have fought harder. Maybe, he had given up too soon, maybe he had lost hope, maybe he had been scared and selfish.

“Tommy. Kill me,” he said. Thomas decided that Newt’s begging was the worst. He could not remember how to breath. He wanted to scream. Newt’s voice resonated in his head again and again, on the same album but so much louder than Theresa’s begging for them not to fight WKCD, or Chuck talking about his parents.

This could not be real. It was not happening.

 

Thomas won’t let it.

He deserved to be punished, not Newt. Him, and Theresa, and WCKD, and so many people deserved it but not Newt, not Chuck, not Alby…

His breathing accelerated and there was nothing he could do. Thomas stood, ignoring the pain shooting in his side. It was just like getting out of the box again. He couldn’t think, nor breath so Thomas started running.

 

He felt the beach before saw it. He felt the sand under his feet and the salt in his mouth. It seemed safe enough, calm even. Why was it so unfair?

Thomas kneeled down, legs weakened and head dizzy from the sudden rush of adrenaline. This stomach and side hurting, firing up pain under his skin making him want to puke.

“Thomas!”

He didn’t have time to look up before he got tackled into a hug.

“You’re wake!!” shouted Minho. He let go of Thomas, his hands sliding to his shoulders. Noises started to stir around of them, people coming closer wondering about the shouting. “How are you feeling? When did you wake up?” urged Minho. “Are you okay? Why are you alone?”

Thomas even if he wanted to, could not have answered all of the questions. It wasn't waking up from a dream, Minho was anchoring the nightmare in. Tears started fall in anger, defeat and confusion. There was no stopping. Minho was here and the happiness of seeing him was as precious as it made all of the rest come to life.

They did it.

They won.

They got Minho out, and the others immunes, everything was clearing out now. Newt was dead. Teresa was gone. Chuck was never getting out of the Maze, he would never know they made it. 

 

“We’re okay,” laughed Minho trying to get Thomas to stop crying. “We’re at the Safe Haven!”

Gally came running toward them breathless and annoyed. He started to apologise but Minho didn’t give him the chance. 

“Where were you?” shouted Minho. “Thomas’s running around alone! You had one job.” 

It took all the strength Gally could muster to not push Minho in the sand. “He took off!” Gally growled exasperated. “He got up and sprinted straight to the beach!”

Minho glanced at Thomas in silence, but that did not slow down Gally’s rant. “He always have to run off!! Bloody runners! Slintheads all of them!”

The name made everyone smile and Thomas look up, so Gally continued on with the cheap insult and easy bender.

 

It took some time for Thomas to move back inside needing help as people brought food and water. Minho couldn’t stop talking even, didn’t even stop when Brenda walked in. Minho distractedly grabbed her hand tugging her closer to Thomas’s bed where he was currently sitting.

 “And the water!” he exclaimed. “The water’s amazing! We even started swimming lessons because you should have seen us at the beginning. If you thought getting out of the maze was hard we should be thankful, we didn’t have to swimming out of it,” he laughed. “Brenda’s the only one managing so far, and she’s an amazing teacher!”

He continued on and on, it was like Minho thought that a second of silence would be too hard on them. He was not one to talk all night long, but this was a particular situation. There was so many taboo, questions better left unanswered for now. Nobody wanted to talk about before, about the dead and the wounded. It was too soon and Minho was trying his best to drown the pain and sorrow with all those new exciting things Thomas missed on. Brenda chipped in a few times with a bright and peaceful smile.

It was nice, and Thomas finally started to relax. He tried to follow as much as possible but it was a lot to process and exhaustion was still rooted deeply inside his bones. It was only when Minho started talking about the garden and the different vegetables Frypan had been cooking and roasting, that sleep took over. All he heard was Brenda shushing Minho out of the tent.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It did not took long for Thomas to wake up again. It was night time now, and the camp managed to be even more quiet than during the day with only the waves filling the silence. Not able to deal with those memories alone, Thomas stood up slowly making his way outside.

The moon was big enough for him to see the sea far on his left and lights for each tent burning low all around him. He wandered for a bit, putting images on Minho’s stories earlier today. He thought he was alone awake until he found Brenda next to the main fireplace counting stars.

“Thomas!” she called out with her usual warm and confident smile. “Need something?”

Thomas shook his head. “Nah, I’m fine, thanks.”

Nevertheless he went to sit next to her, enjoying the silence for a while he finally decided to ask. “How are you?” He had answered that question again and again, but Thomas felt he ought to be the one asking by now.

“Long night,” she confessed, words curving the side of her mouth as if they had another meaning Thomas was not privy to. “But I can’t complain, you woke up today, so how bad can it be?”

Thomas returned her smiled, not the careless and sincere ones but the comforting, soft and fragile smiles that barely reaches your lips but settle in your eyes. Brenda was right, they had much worst days.

“Minho?” asked Thomas, trying to make conversation and maybe also hoping to get some gossips about their relationship.

“Another crisis,” sighed Brenda tugging her hair behind her ear. 

“Crisis?” frowned Thomas and the way Brenda’s body tensed Thomas knew right away that something was wrong. Were they not safe?

“He is with Newt,” she blurred as it explained everything. 

“With Newt?” shouted Thomas standing up. “He is here?”

Brenda stood up trying to grab Thomas, stopping him from running away. “We gave him the cure. He is unconscious,” she elaborated but with no success in calming down Thomas.

“It’s impossible,” he whispered to myself. “It’s WCKD. This is another trial. It was too good to be true. I knew It! I Knew it! We need to leave.” 

“Thomas!” Brenda called out. “Stop it!”

But nothing was getting to him. Thomas stepped back. “You don’t understand, we need to leave now. This is not right! I saw him Brenda! He was dead!” 

“Thomas,” Repeated Brenda like a mother to her child. “We can explain.”

“Explain what? He is dead! Newt is dead!” he shouted finally letting it out, tears crashing down. “I would know, okay, because I killed him!” 

“We gave him the cure, he lost a lot of blood but he is alive,” Brenda tried to explain. “He is still unconscious.”

“No,” Thomas shouted it with such certitude than Brenda stayed silent. “Newt is dead.”

Minho finally hearing the argument, ran down into the square, “What’s going on?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

And here he was. Back in that place, with only hope and crazy plans, but there was no more plans. Thomas sat down, knees weak from the shock. Newt was alive, well, he was still breathing for now. Unconscious, sure but breathing. Thomas could not believe it. He just could not. 

“He is not going to wake up,” said Thomas, eyes dragging across the blond hating each second of it.

Minho frowned, “You don’t know that.”

“How long has he been like that? Almost a week?” shouted Thomas, turning away to face Minho. They had to understand. “Brenda got better in a day. It’s not working. It was too late, he was already gone,” stammered Thomas. “He was already- He just- He died!”

“The veins disappeared!” insisted Minho, now trying to convince the rest of the room. He came up next to Newt, grabbing his arm to push the sleeve up. Thomas couldn’t look at it. He did not like it, that stupid hope others were keeping here. Thomas was running out of it, he just could not play that game again.

“He shows no sign of the flares,” elaborated Minho. “No blackened veins. His mouth isn't black anymore, his eyes are back to normal. It worked.”

“No!” snapped Thomas, eyes filling up with tears. “It is not! He is fucking unconscious!” 

“It’s only been few days.” Brenda chipped in, calmly, stepping closer to him. “He might just be out because of the blood lose-”

“Or brain damage!” Shouted Thomas. “I killed him! Newt is dead.”

“Don't,” rasped a voice from behind them.

The sound of it turn on cold water on Thomas and the rest of the group. His eyes moved to the bed, Newt’s eyes were still shut close, only frowning slightly. Brenda looked down, hurting from what was coming next, as Minho did not even move locking his eyes on Thomas.

Thomas grabbed the other boy’s bed for support. “Newt?”

He got no other answers than Newt’s arms tensing pushing against the ropes tying him down. “Why is he tied up?” shouted Thomas.

Minho did not even tried to stop from Thomas grabbing the ropes twisted on their friends wrists. “Precaution,” he said bitterly. “Most of the people here believe he could still turn.”

“Why is he talking?” demanded Thomas, hands holding unto Newt, now he couldn’t let go. A minute ago Thomas wanted him buried but he couldn't let go.

“We think he is dreaming,” answered Brenda. “Or at least hallucinating because of the fever.”

Thomas hand trailed on Newt arms. He was burning. “He has fever?” repeated Thomas, fingers pressing against the clammy skin.

“Might be from the stab wound,” temporised Minho.

“It could be from the flare,” continued Thomas but kept moving his fingertips on the inside of Newt’s wrist.

“It could be,” confessed Minho.

His legs finally had enough and Thomas sat down on the bed, hand closing on the teenager’s fingers.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Thomas set up camp and stayed next to him for the next days, and encountered very little resistance from the others. Minho could finally take a break, and Gally put himself at use. It wasn’t even as if Thomas could do much than sit around. It was mostly a question of keeping an eye on the blond in case of anything. Like making sure the veins did not return.  
It was the worst part, waiting for a bad news. Not having a plan, just waiting for the catastrophe to happen.

Changing the bandages once a day was another hurdle and even that, Brenda would do it. The plan was to first show Thomas how to do it, but it became clear he was not going to be able too. His hands was shaking the moment Newt t-shirt came off and ugly burning red stain painted the bandages.  
Thomas could feel the blade on his on chest, the need to breath as Newt tried strangle him, the panic.

What Thomas would prefer was the relief of feeling useful, changing the towel on Newt’s forehead to keep temperatures down, talking to him about anything, the weather, the time. 

As hours and days started to pass, Newt kept on stirring and the mumbling and whispering added themselves to the long list of the worst sounds of Thomas’s life. The boy was mostly repeating himself. Mostly negatives, don’ts and stop’s. But the most painful was when Newt called out names. Tommy was the most frequent and every time without a miss, Thomas would remember the exhaustion from the fighting and running, the adrenaline from the jump from the tower and the explosion around them. All of it up to the moment, Newt begged him to let him die. Thomas hated it, how dirty and horrid he would feel when only a few weeks away out of the blond’s mouth that name always sound playful or loving. It used to be comforting, having Newt calling him out, joking around, but now it was all gone.

 

It was early in the morning when Thomas heard another stir, grabbing a towel knowing it was going to be another hour of high temperatures and cries but Thomas stopped moving, frozen when he saw the two brown eyes shot open. 

‘Don’t feel too exited if he wakes up,’ Minho had warned. ‘It happened few times, he just falls back into sleep.’

It did not help in any way.

 

“Newt?” Thomas called out, happiness spreading without control. “Are you okay?”

His pupils were exploded, drowning in black, and unfocused but there was no signs of the flare otherwise. Thomas’s hands cupped Newt’s face, calling out his name again, but they soon started to flutter back close, without a word.

That time Minho had to drag Thomas out, forcing him into showering, eating some food and watching the sea until sunset.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m not going back to sleep,” warned Minho sitting up in the bed. 

“I know… I know…” whispered Brenda passing her hand on his back in circles as Minho bend forward his head in his hands. She knew there was nothing more she could do to calm Minho down from those nightmares.

Minho raged breathing continued for a while. It was the middle of the night but they both were starting to get used to that new rhythm of normal nights of sleep, healthy meals and lazy outside activity, which was nevertheless tripped at every steps, by the past continuously crawling back.

“I thought it would calm down,” he whispered. “I thought it would be better with Thomas here, but it’s like my memories just unlocked.”

Brenda winced wishing not let herself give up too. They both knew, it was going to get worst before it gets better, but god, it had been worst for too long.

“I need to walk for a bit,” excused Minho.

Brenda slowly nodded laying back down. “Wake me up if you need anything,” she commanded letting sleep elude her again.

 

Minho walked out toward the sea, around the camp. Air was fresh and salty but memories of the sterile rooms and WCKD’s labs blocked out that little piece of paradise from Minho’s eyes. It enraged him, not being able to touch and feel that joy everyone was projecting around him.

It was just a matter of days before Newt’s fate would be sealed. The medic hadn’t been very optimistic, Newt had been unconscious for too long, his body was going to start shutting down. If they were going to lose him, because he went ahead and rescued him, the least Minho could do was making it count. He had to be okay and happy for him, for what his friends did for him. But how could Minho enjoy or do anything, when he could barely sleep? Why did it feel like everything had been for nothing?  
Normally, no one was outside at that time of the night, so did not take long for Minho to notice a silhouette sitting next to the fireplace. As Minho got closer, Thomas must have heard something because the boy jumped and turned toward his friend also surprised to see someone here.

“Hey,” called out Minho slowly coming to sit next to his friend. 

Thomas didn’t seem to mind, his eyes unfocused. He was fiddling with something in his hands, his legs bumping up and down. “Are you okay?” asked Thomas as Minho sat down next to him.

“I should ask you that,” said Minho. “You look terrible.” 

“Can’t sleep,” shrugged Thomas simply.

Minho nodded slowly, it came as no surprise. “Wanna talk about it?”

“You seems to have enough on your plate,” grinned Thomas pushing Minho with his elbow.

“Change my mind, will you?” Minho encouraged. 

Thomas hesitated passing, what Minho now noticed was, Newt’s necklace back and forth in his hand. Minho had given it to him the night Thomas found out about Newt.  
Minho had kept it while Thomas had been unconscious recognising it from Newt. He opened it by mistake and decided not to look at the letter. It was obliviously for Thomas and who was he for getting in between them?

Maybe Minho had been a bit sad about being kept out of it; Thomas hadn’t say a word about it, he didn’t even know if Thomas had read it yet. Minho wasn’t jealous though definitely curious. Only an idiot wouldn’t have notice something was different between those two, something stronger than reason; going to find Minho in the Last City was quite the gamble. Thomas hadn’t talk about it yet, but Brenda had given him the main lines and Minho had decided his friends were insane. Thomas acting on a whim, sure, but endangering Newt and Brenda? Even Newt, being an optimist on his good days, was at the very core a realist, and that mission nothing short of a suicide pact, for all of them. What were they thinking? What were they doing? Not for the first time this week, Minho felt like he was missing a piece.

“I don’t know what to do if he doesn’t wake up,” murmured Thomas. He hadn’t talked with such hopelessness since the first night he found out about his friend surviving. Thomas hadn’t say a word about the possibility of his friend dying nor waking up, after that night when he shouted that Newt was dead.

Minho stayed silent, he knew too well that lying feeling saying anything could be resolved if his friends awake.

“I don’t know, I don’t-” stammered Thomas slightly angry and short breathed, as if confessing it was making it worst. “I don’t know, how to explain it. And there’s so much to do but all I can think of is him and what happened, what I did, what I should have done…”

Minho nodded slowly, he had watch his best friends grow closer and closer from the Maze to the Right Arm’s camp but this was something more. The constant pain, the angst, the worry and what ifs in Thomas’s voice was something much more intense than what they all felt for each-others. The 6-months they spent apart had crafted them all so differently and had bring the two boys closer.

It didn’t mean Minho didn’t recognised his friend, but because he knew them better than anyone, he could pick up on those details. The way Thomas hold Newt’s hand, the way he looked at him as if every seconds Newt stayed between life and death was a excruciating torture that he couldn’t wait for it to be over.

“You’re together, right?” asked Minho quietly. That question stopped Thomas in his tracks, his hammering worries and looked up abruptly.

“What?”

“Like dating?”

“Dating?” Repeated Thomas livid. “No, we’re not.”

Minho chuckled patting Thomas on the shoulder. “It’s fine you know, I don’t mind,” hurried Minho. “I mean it would be a lie to say I totally didn’t see it coming because boys, you’re awful at hiding it.”

“No!” tried Thomas again, turning to his friend. “We never, I mean, there were you and Teresa… It’s not like we thought about it.”

“Sure… and WCKD is good,” Minho chuckled, but Thomas just kept his eyes locked on his friend, silent. “Wait, you are actually serious.”

Minho retracted his hand, confused. “So the long night talking together and couple fighting while I was away, which Brenda told me all about,” Thomas tried to argue that point but Minho didn’t let him. “The dramatic ‘I’m staying behind to help Newt’ when he was changing into a Crank? Then you going utterly crazy and of to a suicide mission to kill Ava Paige after Newt changed? All of it and you guys are just friends?”

“I would do the same for you,” said ruefully Thomas. “We both would. We kinda did it by going back for you, I’m not sure what you mean…”

“Come on. Don’t lie to yourself Thomas, this is different,” chuckled Minho not believing how clueless was Thomas. “Since we’re here, you’ve spend every awaking moments with Newt, torturing yourself. I miss him too, you know, but at least I can recognise there is something more going on with you two.”

Thomas shrugged. “I told you, I don’t know. I’m stuck here and all I think of is that I didn’t do enough,” said Thomas. Hands clenching on his jean. “I killed him. It’s my fault.” 

“I know the feeling,” Minho laughed. Thomas looked up suddenly thrown off. “It’s guilt, and you didn’t fail Newt, he isn’t dead, not yet.”

Thomas didn’t know what to say, what to add. Minho sighed loudly, upset to have come to such a heavy conversation and tried to lighten the mood. “Damn, Brenda and I had a bet.”

“You had a bet?" 

“About the two of you,” spelled out Minho. 

“Oh.” Thomas continued playing with the necklace.

“You know you can tell me like anything.”

“Minho…” moaned Thomas rolling his eyes. “I told you, nothing happened.”

“Okay, okay… I guess Brenda was right and I don’t really know anything anymore.” Minho complained, letting minutes roll by. Thomas shrugged ignoring the taunt in his friend’s voice.

“But I mean the necklace and the letter?” Minho insisted definitely a little bitter about his misunderstanding.

“The letter?” repeated Thomas acting innocent trying not to look down when he realised his hand was clenched on the necklace.

“Did you receive many letters?” snorted Minho. “Come on, you are keeping his necklace like your personal life line.”

Thomas kept his eyes close.

“Nothing happened, but you wanted to?” tried Minho again, suddenly more concerned.

“I don’t know,” sighed Thomas looking back at the fire. “We were always running, trying to find you, trying to survive.”

Minho nodded slowly, he had to give it to Thomas, relationships were not their biggest priority at the time and it was hard for Minho to imagine their time apart had been really restful for his friends neither.

“It’s too late anyway,” said Thomas. “He might not even wake up. What’s the point.” 

Minho threw his hand on the boy’s head ruffling his hair. “You’re an idiot.” 

“Thanks,” snapped Thomas but Minho knew Thomas’s anger was not directed against him.

“It might sound repetitive but if Newt was here,” said Minho. “He would tell you to pick you ass up and finish what you have started,” that line didn’t help with Thomas’s tears who just kept playing with the necklace.

“I just want him to wake up,” said Thomas those words resonating way to much. Minho was right, Newt would have killed him for spending his days crying about what he did or should have done.

"Trust me, it doesn’t help with everything,” laughed Minho. “Sort yourself out, mate. We don’t know if he is going to wake up, but at least you can try to decided what is it you feel before it happens. And talk to Vince, there are tons of things you could do without tiring yourself out. We are here thanks to you, you can’t give now. Otherwise what’s the point?”

 

‘You can’t give up. I won’t let you.’ New had told him in the desert.

It seemed years away and tasted bitter and unjust in Thomas’s mouth when it was Newt who had given up. Let himself die, when they had the cure so close. Newt had kept his promise until now, getting Thomas through the Maze and the Scorch, getting Minho out, getting everyone back safely to the Safe Haven. Maybe Minho was right, maybe Thomas could not give up.

 

“I’ll try,” promised Thomas.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Huge brown eyes opened. Thomas reacted on the second, looking up from the necklace.

It was happening again. He was going to stand and call Minho, or Gally, or anyone really. He had new orders, if Newt opened his eyes he had to look for someone. It took a few hours for Thomas to calm down the last time, it happened. But this time, he barely had time to move that Newt’s eyes flickered on him. They were focused and clearer than usual.

“Tommy?” The voice was much more clearer and louder than the whisperings Thomas was getting used to listening for the past days. It was a question with the intonation and the voice curling up at the end. Thomas couldn’t believe it.

The blond blinked repeatedly trying to push away the haze in front of his eyes. His arms moving, tensing the ropes tying him down.

“Newt?” asked Thomas trying to make sure before getting his hopes high again. “It’s okay, don’t move.” He stepped closer to the bed, reaching for the hands still pushing against the restrains.

Newt seemed awake and calm. Thomas untied the first hand.

“Water?” winced Newt not even trying to sit up yet.

“Sure,” rushed Thomas grabbing one of the bottle he had been sipping on. The temperature had kept on rising and under the tent it was suffocating. “Are you okay? How to you feel?” asked Thomas getting the other rope off.

“Bloody amazing,” complained the blond. Thomas could have cried from hearing that sarcastic answer. “What’s going on? Where are we? Is Minho okay?” he asked before giving back the bottle.

Newt tried to push on his elbows to sit up hissing in pain. Lying to himself, Thomas decided let his hand spilt to the blond’s hair, pushing them back still humid from the last fever and at the same time encouraging Newt to stay put.

“Minho is fine, Brenda and the others too. Everything is okay, we are on the island that Vince talked about. He was right. We made it!”

Newt stopped trying to move, relaxing under his hand. His eyes fixed on Thomas. “What?”

“Everything is okay,” repeated Thomas and for the first time since he got here he believed it. “We’re safe. Minho is safe.”

Newt’s stare finally left Thomas and turned to the room. That time Thomas helped him sit up. “The island exists?” Newt chuckled amused and disbelieving.

Thomas wasn’t sure what to said, just then realising that Newt never believed in their plan. He never believed in Vince and Gally crazy happy ending plan. Each steps of the way, Newt had supported them, encouraged them, found a way to make it work despite the odds, and he did not even believed it could end well? That the island existed? Newt never thought it could actually be over, be better. Why did he never voiced his concerns? Thomas wanted to shout at that idiot, that stupid martyr. If Newt did not look so fragile right there on the bed, he swears he would have done it.

A gasp made Thomas focus ran back to the boy in front of him, Newt were holding his hands against his chest feeling the bandages through his t-shirt. Before Thomas could explain that ‘everything was fine’ one more time in not so many words, Newt’s hands moved from his to Thomas’s chest.

Thomas tried to stand still letting his friend push his hand against Thomas’s heart. It took way to long for Thomas to reconnect his brain and understand what Newt was looking for. He was going to say something but Newt already got his answer, hands stilling suddenly.

Thomas could have pinpoint the exact moment Newt’s found the bandages, his brown eyes widened and he felt the blond’s sharp intake of air.

“It’s okay,” tried Thomas but it was too late. “I’m okay.” 

Newt’s fingertips slightly pressed here and there, levitated over the strips of bandages hidden under Thomas’s t-shirt. He was careful as if too scared of hurting Thomas, but it was unthinkable to stop, it was way worst not knowing the scale of the damages.

Thomas could see the blond’s turmoil, eyes unfocused trying to remember. Newt was trying to relive again and again his last actions, his last moment of consciousness, trying to find an answer and understand if their was blood on his hands. Everything must be such a blur between the fever and the exhaustion.

“I did not stop,” whispered Newt terribly certain. 

Thomas could see the panic spreading through his friend. He never saw Newt so scared. Even when Minho was taken, or even few moment before jumping of the tower, Newt would always push through, give some unimpressed and sarcastic comments. Newt made things work in the Glade and would anywhere in the world, he was the glue keeping it all together. He had been desperate, worried but never scared like this.

His hands started to shake, then tears were filling his eyes and finally it was the relentless breathing in and out that truly panicked Thomas. Newt bent down, arms warped around himself, hissing in pain from overexerting his lungs.

“It’s okay! Listen to me,” Thomas cupped Newt’s face as he lower his head to try to make eye contact with the blond. “You stopped! You didn’t do it. You turned the knife, you didn’t hurt me.” 

“I remember… I hurt you. I tried to kill you, to strangle you,” insisted Newt, closing his eyes as tears kept on coming. Thomas tried to grab his arms, to make him lay back down, to make him relax and to stop hurting himself. Sitting up like that was surely not helping but his hands kept escaping Thomas’s grip.

“I tried so hard!!” he shouted. His tears continued crashing around them. “Why didn’t you just listen to me?!”

“I know, I know… It’s my fault, okay? Just calm down,” begged Thomas hands going back to Newt’s hair, ready to agree and confess to anything to just make Newt’s pain stop. “I should have listened but you didn’t hurt me. Janson shot me. It wasn’t you. You didn’t do anything.”

That did work to shut up Newt’s hysteria but not as to reassure him. He looked up more distressed as tears continued to filled his eyes. Apparently nothing Thomas could say was going to stop them. His arms were wrapped around himself, holding his ribs as he hissed at every breath.

“Janson shot you?” repeated Newt. “I strangled you- and Janson shot you?” 

“I’m fine,” said Thomas. He moved his hand from Newt’s hair to behind his neck, giving a small squeeze. Thomas could feel Newt’s relaxing under his hands. “Everything’s fine now,’ continued Thomas.

“It really wasn’t that bad…” tried Thomas but it sounded way too fake. Newt had calmed down enough to throw an disbelieving look at him. “You’re going to be fine.”

“You’re fine,” tried to reason Newt on his own.

“Yeah” confirmed Thomas as the erratic breathing calmed down. Thomas’s pained smile started coming back, as a quiet joy was bubbling inside of him.

He pushed his face against Thomas’s neck his arms blocked between them as Newt kept putting pressure on his ribs. Thomas leaned in mostly trying to limit and support Newt’s movements. But it was so unreal and yet natural, Thomas arms automatically found their way around the blond, holding him closer.

Thomas could finally feel pieces of three years of constant stress rocking his friends’ body at every breath while they got every time longer and more stable than the last. There was no screaming or shouting, Newt stayed quiet against Thomas, breathing in against his neck for a while.

“I really thought I was going to do it,” murmured Newt between the tears that continued to flatly fall down. “I really thought I was going to kill you.”

Thomas let his hands run down the other boy’s back and back up inside his hair. Despite all considerations, he could stop himself from kissing Newt’s temple and burying his nose in the blond’s hair.

“It’s okay,” assured Thomas. “You did great. It was all my fault, I couldn’t do it, but you stopped in time. You did it, you didn’t hurt me.”

If Newt was feeling uncomfortable from the kiss he did not show it, tears continuing to follow and threatening Thomas’s eyes of the same treatment. He didn’t smell like Newt still, even if he had been clean from the moment they put him on the boat transporting them to the Safe Haven, but Thomas could swear it was different; still ashy from the explosions and fire in the Last City, still bitter from the blood and the flare. He hated it, he wanted those things gone and as far away from Newt as possible.

Minutes started to pass as Thomas felt Newt’s eyes fluttering close against his skin a few time, he really realised that, this was it.

They were okay. They made it. 

 

“Newt?!” 

The two boys looked up just in time, to see Minho jump on them eager to join in for the hug. Squeezing the two boys in his arms, he rapidly let go trying to fit that image in his mind. Both of his friends, alive, it was a miracle that shouldn’t have happened.

Brenda and Gally found their way inside the room hearing the noise coming from here, all eyes fixed on the three boys.

“You are not doing that again,” almost shouted Minho messing up Newt’s hair. 

“And I am talking to the both of you,” teased Minho squeezing Thomas’s shoulder as Newt slowly lay back down against the pillow. There was fire in his eyes and everybody knew clearly what Minho was talking about. He was not losing his friends and his family again.

“What can I say, third time the charm?” smirked Newt, the idiot.

“I can’t believe you just said that,” growled Thomas, his hand holding on to the blond’s. He was not ready to let, not now and not in at least a few days, or weeks, or years.

Or forever. Forever was good.

“You’re well above three tries, sweetheart,” scoffed Brenda.

“I swear I’m going to kill him myself,” threatened Gally before walking out the door. It was nice, and everyone answered it with a quiet smile.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Hope you enjoyed the beginning!  
> It was supposed to be an quick one-shot to heal my broken heart over Newt's death, but... yeah, months later, I am still heart broken and the one-shot ended up being much longer!  
> Actually it is solely based on the movies so if there is any inaccuracy... Sorry, I guess? But please, don't hesitate pointing it out in the comments! Since we are on the subject, sorry for the awful grammar...  
> Also the chapter's title is based on Gabrielle Aplin's song from the same name, Waking up slow... I just thought it fit quite well.  
> Thanks for reading!


	2. You're Safe Now

 

Thomas just couldn’t keep his face from smiling, it almost hurt.

Minho cried again and Thomas had no idea why he didn’t. Maybe it was the shock? Thomas didn’t move from his sit next to the blond, eyes fixed on his friend. Newt couldn’t fully realise the scare he gave his friend and Thomas almost envied him. Brenda acted like a weight has been taken of her shoulders weirdly enough, she didn’t say much but massaged Minho’s shoulders trying to help it sink in. They were free now. Free of the waiting, and maybe finally free of WCKD and everything they left on the continent.  
Minho monopolised the discussion talking about the camp and what Newt was missing on. He kept on endearingly comparing Newt's coma as laziness. He had made its personal mission to focus their conversations about idle activities going-on around the camp.

"You did well, really," mocked Minho. "You woke up just after all the hard work's finished!"

Newt’s tired smiles and muddled answers started to increase barely an hour after he woke up. Brenda did not even had time to fetch food before the blond fell asleep again.

She started off with a wise; “Maybe we shouldn’t leave him without supervision," while pushing the bowl into Thomas's hands

“I’ll stay,” announced Thomas but none even acknowledged him. Only Brenda spared him a glare, seemingly still judged for refusing to go lay down earlier.

Minho shrugged. Sonya and Harriet had come around too, debating with Brenda the benefice of letting the blond rest and the risk of letting him sleep. Could he still fall into a coma? He seemed coherent enough but did it mean he was out of the woods?

Gally was the first to snap. “He is fine.”

But the little group started to fall into superstitious fear that maybe Newt wasn’t asleep. It was ridiculous, but this whole thing was unbelievable to begin with, so Thomas kept his hand locked around the blond’s wrist, watching careful his face, his mouth open breathing slowly in and out against the pillow, chest rising a little bit at each step.

Minho stood silent, eyes moving from Thomas to Newt when someone came in through the door.

“Did I declare national holiday?” scoffed Vince. “I want to see everyone back to their job now. But you, Thomas, didn’t you listen last time I told you to rest? You look even worst for wear.”

Thomas tried to open his mouth but somehow nobody seemed interest in his answer.

“You all need to chill,” ordered Vine. “Let the poor thing sleep.”

Gally let his eyebrows show his complete support to Vince's surge of authority. A bit like a “I told you so” without words.

“I’ll send someone with some food later,” cut Vince not interest in anyone's rebuttal. “Now everyone out.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The first day Newt woke up, everyone felt light. The first 24 hours were a fucking bliss if Minho could be frank. Maybe it was a biased observation but even the rest of the camp seemed lighter, like an anchor had been taken away, lifted up into the air weightless.

The last person stuck between life and death, between the Last City and the Safe Haven, was back, was safe and sound.

“It’s hard to talk to you alone,” began Minho legs dangling from the bed getting ready for their daily card game in the late afternoon. It was almost a ritual now. Thomas could watch but not play, too good or too bad at it, depends who you ask. It was a Minho and Newt's thing, like they used to do back at the Maze with Alby. A habit started right after Newt's so called accident. It would be the three of them under the trees, far enough from the rest of the Glader to enjoy some calm, and yet never too far. It was the moment before the sun fell down behind the walls of their cages, a moment when they just could be themselves, not thinking about their responsibilities, playing games and laughing with each others. Minho always thought about that time when they played nowadays, and he could only wonder if Newt did the same.

Newt didn’t answer straight away to Minho's comment. From Newt's refusal to look up, Minho only guessed that the blond would have shrugged if it wasn’t from the hole in his chest keeping him moving.

It was the same dance each day; wake up with hesitant smile and quite words. Their friends would come and go throughout the days. They were the only activities interrupting Thomas and Newt's naps.

“I don't think we've been alone... since I woke up?” guessed Newt, frowning as if to try to push the fog out of his mind, as if it was the first time he actually tried to think back on those days.

Thomas and Newt were mostly left to their own devices. Both ‘forced’ to rest, they were restricted to Newt’s room where Thomas decided to set up camp. Today, the brunet had left for a shower, leaving Newt to answer the demanding questions of his friend all by himself.

“How are you doing?” Asked Minho again but without his usual energy grabbing the pack of cards. He was concerned but even could feel the uselessness of the question. Knowing very well the same questions will have the same answers.

“Fine,” mumbled the blond. “Just tired, but I guess that’s to be expected. You?”

Minho just raised his eyebrows at the comment. Is it to be expected? Yes, sure, it wasn’t the question. The amount of sleep those boys were getting didn’t raise any red flags, it was just exhaustion. Thomas would turn left and right in his bed at night and sleep throughout the day, while Newt was constantly either asleep or sleepy, nights and days mingled together.

“Getting there,” answered Minho finishing up with the dealing. “Been working with Gally, we’re still fetching wood for the camp. It’s nice outside, still warm, lot of green. The trees are amazing, reminds me of… you know…”

Newt tries to hide his discomfort, hands clenching on the bed sheet, eyes focusing on the cards. The Glade was all he ever had to call home, and he hated it. But somehow he missed it terribly, feeling the grass, the leaves falling and the smell. It was home, a cursed and hollowed, deceiving and deadly, but somehow it was home with bonfires, hammocks and friendships. Newt even came to wish he could go back there without having to remember their last days spend there. But now he was here. Would he be able like Minho to walk under the trees? Reminiscing of the good time without going crazy?

“Sorry,” cut Minho trying to refocus everyone. “She says I’m bottling up. Brenda, she’s pestering me about talking.”

Newt raised an eyebrow. “Talking?”

“To you, to Thomas, about… stuff,” explained Minho eloquently.

“Oh…” mumbled Newt somehow understanding. They didn’t have much to say to each others that were still part of the safe subjects, as the days unfold. Thomas and Newt both found silence comfortable enough, lost in their own thoughts, too tired to talk but memories of what happened were yet too fresh to be silenced. But Brenda was right, they shouldn't bottle up. “Us neither...”

Minho nodded along, understanding the “us” and learning to accept it. Newt and Thomas, nap partners. None of the boys seems to catch it. It was clear as day that Thomas hadn’t spoke up about his feelings, whichever they were. Thomas either decided to ignore the situation or was too confuse to confess. In any case, he hadn't listen to Minho.

“If you need to,” said Newt. “You can talk to me, you know?”

Minho didn’t even look up to the blond knowing his eyes would just roll. He started putting a card down nudging Newt to take a card from the deck.

“Actually, Brenda thinks we should all just say what’s on our mind.”

Newt looked up from his cards neatly arranged in his hand, “She's right.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” started Minho without warning.

Newt looked away hurriedly, fingers fidgeting with the card. “Me too,” he smiled. “I’m glad you’re here too.”

Minho nodded and continued on playing. They made two round before Minho began again.

“But you’re an idiot.”

Newt finally looked back at him.

“Actually I need to have this talk with both of you,” argued Minho, his voice turning harsh. “What were you thinking?”

“What?”

“Thomas maybe, but you?” continued Minho. "Just walking in the Last City like that?"

"You told Thomas you’d prefer to die than to stay with WCKD,” reproached Newt.

“But not at this price!” he hissed. “What were you thinking?”

Tears started to swell up in Newt’s eyes, lungs heavy with pain. “What was I thinking? How can you ask me that?”

“It was suicide!”

The word laid heavily around them. Minho not daring to look at his friend in the eyes, too scared he would back down. Newt put his cards down moving backward. “You know what, maybe you're right! I was thinking it didn’t matter if I died there? Maybe that was what I wanted,” hissed Newt one hand moving up against his chest. “Is that what you want to hear? That I followed because I wanted to die?"

They both fell silence. Maybe Brenda was wrong, maybe they weren't ready to talk. Minho searched for words, "I didn't mean that..." It was weak and Newt glared at him.

"I guess you're right. My plan was never to get us out,” bit out Newt, making sure Minho regrets it. “Once I realised I was sick, it didn't even remotely mattered. My plan was just to make it stop, to finish what we've started. Thomas wanted to save you, I wanted to make sure that you got out. I never thought we could have survived the rescue mission."

Minho didn't answer, he couldn't.

"Are you happy now?"

“I didn’t mean- “

“Would you have excepted me to just hide here?" demanded Newt, breathing itching. "Knowing the Gladers I was suppose to protect were dead or tortured? I failed way too many of my friends as it was-”

“It’s not your fault,” hissed Minho, realising what Newt was saying.

“Guys?!” asked Thomas walking in, hair still dripping from the shower. Newt brushed the tears away. “Is everything okay?” asked Thomas again.

 “Yeah, I’m just tired,” sighed Newt. “Minho was leaving.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

“It’s okay.”

Thomas kept on repeating it again and again. Like a mantra, a prayer. Maybe if you want something hard enough it happens. Maybe if Thomas said it again and again it would be okay.

“It’s okay.” “It’s okay.” “You’re okay.”

But who is Thomas kidding? There had been so much blood, there is no way anyone could fix it.

 

“Are you okay, Tommy?”

Thomas turned to his friends’ bed, barely seeing Newt’s shape through the room. It must still be early in the night for the darkness to be so thick. His friend had sat up turned to him. “Sorry,” coughed Thomas. “I’m fine. Sorry, I woke you up.”

“Don’t worry.”

Thomas excepted the blond to got back to sleep, to hear the ruffling of the sheets as his friend moved around, wincing between his teeth.

Days had started to pass by, somehow, and each day Thomas found it harder to sleep. He just couldn’t sake off the feeling that it was all a dream, that WCKD was still lurking around them. It made him want to run away, to grab his bag, to get Newt and Minho out, to beg for Brenda to come with them. Because it just couldn’t be true. How could it be? How could any of that be real? How could it be okay?

Images kept on intruding his mind any time he tried to rest. And it was all Thomas was suppose to do now. It was awful.

The only answer keeping him from running was Teresa. If she died, if she was not with Thomas now, it’s because everything was real, that the tower collapsed on her and what was left of WCKD. Teresa was gone and that pain was the only thing keeping Thomas from thinking of that island as another of WCKD jail or trial.  
He had kept on asking about her but Brenda was clear; she was dead. Thomas would have prefer to be dragged around the camp like Minho, worked to the ground until he had no choice but collapse on his bed at night.

A hand hazardously fell on his arm. Thomas jumped at the contact, grabbing the intruder’s wrist like a reflex, tugging it away down on the bed.

“It’s me,” hissed the blond, breathless, body wrapping around Thomas’s hand in pain.

Thomas sat up letting go, “Sorry!” Newt bend over the bed in pain leaning against Thomas. Without another word, Thomas helped him to lay down on the bed, making enough place for the blond to lay down next to him.

“I’m so sorry,” urged Thomas. “Are you okay? Any of the stitches broke?”

“I’m fine,” sighed Newt. “Stop bloody apologising. Just lay back down.”

Thomas obeyed his arm still stuck under the blond’s head. On his side Thomas could make enough space between them, not to fall on top of each others.  
Newt’s breathing settled back down on a more evened out pace. Thomas stayed silent, eyes fixed where his friend’s face would be.

“If you wanted to take my bed, you could just have said so and we would have exchanged,” teased Thomas quietly as of not to wake up someone.

Newt chuckled, “Sorry, I’ll move back in a minute.” Newt moved a bit farther out, unconsciously maybe, trying to give a little space back to Thomas. “I just wanted to check with you.” Almost against his will adding, “You sounded scared.”

Thomas wasn’t sure what to say making himself as still as possible, his breathing as quiet as possible, as if scared it could give away the truth. “Nah,” shook off Thomas. “Just tired, my mind’s like going full on paranoia at night time.”

He faked a chuckle but Newt did not join in.

“Paranoia?”

“It’s just too good to be true,” whispered Thomas, worried even that those words could be enough to break the spell.

Newt’s head moved, hair ruffled against Thomas’s arm as he looked up to his friend. “Tell me about it…” sighed the blond. “It’s like something is going to happen but I don’t know when or how. Like it’s not finished. Like we are not safe.”

Thomas moved closer, bumping his head with Newt’s, catching himself before he could push his face against Newt’s temple. “You’re safe,” corrected Thomas. “I won’t let anything happen to you again.”

“But you don’t have to,” said Newt his voice steadier and louder than earlier. “For the moment, we are okay. Stop worrying.”

“Yeah…” agreed Thomas half-heartedly, as he started to think back about what Minho said. About deciding what to do if Newt would wake up.

“You still don’t know how to lie, Tommy,” laughed Newt. “Just sleep, we’re safe.”

Thomas smiled before realising he could see him and decided to hum in agreement. It didn’t sound as unrealistic as when Brenda says it. So Thomas gave it a shot, closing his eyes. Newt’s breathing was still clumsy and harsh, and Thomas was so close he could even feel the ripple and quaver every time his lungs stretch and pull on his flesh. With the weight on his arm, and Newt’s calming scent Thomas could almost let go. He let his mind focus on his friend, drowning slowly the worries out.

Somehow the boys found the silence wrap around them, sleep threatening them both. Before they realised it, they were dozing off. “And no need.”

“What?”

“To move back,” explained Thomas, eyes closing and opening lazily. He tugged the blanket over them both. “I was cold anyway.”

Thomas could swear he heard a sarcastic “sure” coming from the other but preferred not to check.

After a stretched moment of silence, Thomas caved in and added, “You’re not taking up much space anyway.”

This time the disbelieving “sure” was loud and clear, and Thomas decided to press his other hand on his arm keeping the blond in place.

“Just stay,” asked Thomas.

Newt hummed in agreement already falling back asleep. “Don’t kick me.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Their life fell quickly into what Thomas called “a tranquil pace” and Brenda “the beginning of depression.”

Their discussions had been circling on the same subjects; Food, weather, Minho’s daily activities and camp’s politics. Brenda was less understanding than the other and didn’t want to wrap the boys in bubble wrap. Thomas would even dare to ask the questions burning his mind when she showed up alone.

“Do we know what’s going on the continent?” he would ask the way you fake mere interest, like when asking your parents about a fight they’ve been trying to hide.

“We don’t know,” would say Brenda, or “No news, good news,” or “You worry about getting back on your feet and let Vince worry about the continent.”

So many people were still missing, so many immunes dead or lost. There was a sense of urgency steeped in opioids and confusion, that Thomas couldn’t quiet down. What was happening to them? Each day passing was a day lost for them, a day closer without knowing what would happen to WCKD.

Each night listening to Newt’s brittled and short breathing couldn’t reassured him, even when he moved closer to Thomas. Sleeping together had become a habit, and Thomas didn’t want overthink it, happy to keep it quiet for now. It was impossible for him to even rest if he didn’t have his friend at arms’ reach.  
Newt would just randomly whisper short answer like, “It’s fine” or “We’re safe.” But even Thomas could see it wasn’t helping neither of them, not when Thomas anxiety was pouring on Newt. Newt would sleep too much and more often than not, but energy seemed to be drained out of him a little bit more each day. Thomas didn’t comment on it, wishing Newt closer and to the point that going outside, knowingly leaving Newt behind was stressful.

Brenda didn’t need more to stage an intervention and one morning dragged Thomas outside demanding he goes with Minho for morning walks. After all if he “could just run off the day he woke up, that boy could walk in the morning.”

Newt didn’t escape it neither and was given the difficult task of walking around the room two times a day.

The week had just passed when it started. Newt was getting on his second turn around the room. When he just stopped, “I want to go outside.”

Thomas looked up, tired from the spotty nights of sleep he was getting and anxious from the next one to come.

“I just want to go outside,” repeated Newt with the same childish tone. “See the sea! See the trees! I’m tired of being stuck here.”

Thomas stared at his friend, wondering how he could say no. It was late, and probably not the safest idea, all Thomas could think off was how to keep Newt safe nowadays, but before Thomas could decide, Newt walked out.

 

It didn’t take long for Thomas to get to him, he just stood outside the camp looking at the sea and cliffs in awe. “It’s beautiful,” mumbled Newt.

Thomas nodded slowly feeling the cold wind against his arms.

“If only it didn’t remind me so much of the scorch,” said Newt in a humorous tentative, feet digging in the sand.

Thomas shrugged as Newt slowly sat down.

“What are you thinking about?” asked Newt after some time.

“What?”

“You don’t sleep,” accused the blond, hands moving through the sand. “I know you don’t.”

“I told you, I just can’t believe it,” said Thomas with a shrug, trying to make it sound light and careless. He smiled like this was all a joke, meaning he couldn't even believe what he was saying, what he was thinking, because it just didn't make sense. Looking at the sea now didn't make sense, ignoring what was going on back on the continent didn't make sense. “What is this?" just asked Thomas rhetorically. "What if WCKD is still around? What if they had caught us? What if...“

“What if?”

“What if you’re dead.” Thomas voice quavered but Newt didn’t comment on it and simply grabbed Thomas’s hand.

“I keep finding myself short on inspirational speeches recently,” confessed Newt softly. “When it seems that it is all you need.”

Thomas kept his eyes down, squeezing Newt hand a last time before letting go. "It will pass," he promised.

“If you think so,” smiled Newt, holding his hands up. “But for now, help me stand up. I can smell Frypan's food from here.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

In the next few weeks, they started to join in the life of the camp through dinners and breakfasts.

“Vince’s doing a great job,” said Harriet one night sitting for dinner to Thomas. “Sure… he’s overworked but still.”

Thomas could only agree, Vince had made an amazing job, and nodded mindlessly at Harriet as he let Newt stealing some food from his plate.

“There is just so much to do,” sighed Sonya. “I’m trying to get an election set up for next month but no-one presenting has leadership experience.”

“Nobody, who knows what it implies, wants to get the responsibilities,” chided Minho. “Nobody’s that crazy.”

Gally snorted stabbing his fork into a soft potato. “It’s not that hard, really.”

“Why don’t you do it then?” taunted Brenda.

The ex-Gladers looked up, but did not dare to mention anything preferring to wait and see. Minho’s smile froze turning to Brenda. Newt stopped picking at Thomas’s plate, suddenly remembering their Coup d’Etat / come back to power in the maze to free Thomas and Theresa. As the blond remembered the tensions running the camp and constant confrontation with Gally, Thomas ended up remembering only the lost of lives, of Chuck and the delay Gally caused, stopping them from saving more Gladers. He knew they had to talk about it, talk about that time but it was too soon.  
It felt like it would never be the time but then someone would say something and each one of those bitter and unjust thoughts would come out and stab their friendship in its heart.

But Gally just laughed. “I’m not leader material, learned it the hard way,” he said off-hand, not upset nor bitter. “I prefer getting stuff done, not compromising with idiots. Plus I’m already in over my head from building habitations and food reserves. So thanks but no, thanks.”

Sonya didn’t insist, nodding along wondering about the sudden drop in temperature. “At this point I just want someone who knows vaguely how to talk to people and make them cooperate.”

“Newt should run!” exclaimed Minho.

Newt jumped, his spoon falling into Thomas’s plate as he had been fishing out a potato. His eyes widen at suddenly being thrown into a conversation he was not part of. He could feel Thomas’s eyes on him as he looked up to Minho speechless.

“I think I’ve run enough,” commented Newt, but only Thomas picked up on it.

“That would be amazing!” shrieked Sonya, brown eyes sparkling with enthusiasm looking forward to work with her brother. She had come over to see Newt a few times and started off a strange brother and sister relationship.

“He was a great second in command, and a great leader,” Continued Minho stopping only to eat another spoonful of Frypan’s food. “Everybody knows him. Do we really have to go through Sonya’s mock election if we know Newt is the one?”

Sonya outcry for the necessity of democracy in a new society was drown by everyone shouts and laughter at the table, all seemingly enjoying the idea.

“No,” interrupted Newt eyes locked on Minho hoping to make him understand. All it succeed in was bringing back everybody’s attention back to him.

“What?” asked Gally, only slightly pissed for now but bordering totalitarian.

“It’s not happening,” Newt insisted and Thomas could feel the shiver ran through Newt’s body. “I’m not a leader.”

“Come on! Don’t make us beg,” Gally drawled apparently not taking a no when he knew for a fact it would be the best solution for everyone here. Newt fixed his eyes on Gally but continuous exposition to Newt’s silent glare apparently made of Gally part of a whole new type of immune. He therefore continued without a shadow of fear.

“You’re good at keeping people together.” Everyone at the table stared speechless. “Even I can recognised it. He is one of the good guys, you listen to people… it’s kind of annoying…” The last point didn’t sound like a praise.

Thomas was going to interrupted as he was watching Newt slowly close on himself but Gally was quicker.

“It’s not like you can do much more than talk anyway,” teased the ex-Glader.

Brenda choked on her drink, and no one dared to move. Nobody would have ever talked to Newt like that, but at the same time everyone knew Gally was joking. Nevertheless, the truth hanged on.

Newt’s eyes stayed fixed on him. It was true, after all.

What was he going to do now? Newt always got around the Glade, working on the agriculture but their last journey had take a toll on him. His limp was much more pronounced due mostly to his shortened breathing.  
Yes, he needed time, they all did but there was so much left to do before they could fully be established here and Newt was not improving fast enough, if he was improving at all. His hands started to shake, his ribs forced movement started to burn his chest all around his lungs and he knew he could stay there.

“You’re right, I’ll think about it,” Newt conceded and hurried to get up as best as he could without Thomas’s help.

Thomas was too stunt to move or too busy trying not to jump on Gally. “Newt-“

“I need to get some rest. Tell Frypan the food was great,” smiled Newt already leaving without waiting on an answer.

“Well done, Gally,” hissed Minho. Brenda placed a calm hand on his arm still quietly wondering how a perfectly fine diner ended so fast so badly.

“So it’s my fault he can’t take a joke!” growled back Gally, standing up to leave in another direction. “It’s not like no one noticed he can’t do anything on the camp?!”

Thomas glared at him, standing up slowly. He didn’t want to listen to Gally now, to be honest he haven’t even talk to him yet. They’d exchanged random small talk but nothing had been resolved and Thomas wondered what he was waiting for to tell the man what he really though.  
Chuck, Teresa and Newt; Gally had that unlucky gift for hurting the people Thomas cared about, but God knows why Thomas had not remediate to it. Actually no, Newt was the reason why Gally hadn’t been punch to the ground yet. Understanding others and rationalisation were not often behind Thomas’s actions.  
Thomas glanced at Minho making clear not to follow. “I’ll be back,” he murmured as he rushed toward Newt’s tent.

At the surprised of everyone, it’s Sonya who snapped.

“You are a coward Gally, and a bully,” she growled. “You better think next time you talk because I won’t have it.”

“I’m a bully?” Shouted Gally. “I fought for what I believed was right, you did what? Hide in the mountain? Letting your friends get captured? Ready to leave without them?”

“We tried!” shouted Sonya getting up, Harriet trying to get her to step back. “You have no idea what happened! We had no choice.”

“They came back for us,” growled Minho. “That’s enough for me.”

“So why can’t that be same for me?” shouted Gally.

“What’s going on?!?” Vince couldn’t arrive earlier.

Brenda kept glancing back and fourth not knowing where to start.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Wait!” Thomas called out once out of sight from the others. “You okay?”

Newt did not stop, walking in to sit on the bed as if the way back from the fire place had been too much. His head was turning and his breathing was erratic. He looked at his hands.

“I’m fine.”

Thomas kneeled down in front of him. “That was stupid of him.”

“It’s fine.”

“They like you,” insisted Thomas. “They would trust you as their leader, that’s all they meant by it.”

“Tommy don’t...” Newt breathed in, hands shaking on his knees.

Thomas could not wait anymore and grabbed the other boy’s hands. It was too hard to see the boy in pain and just leave it on its own. Again. “Just talk to me, Newt.”

“It’s nothing… I just don’t want to run, okay?” asked Newt. “I just… I can’t do it again.”

“Why can't you?” tried Thomas, Newt’s hands silvering between his fingers.

“Please, Tommy,” breathed Newt. “You know… Everybody knows…”

It was the first time they came that close to talk about it. About before. Newt tried to withdraw his hands but Thomas held back.

“It was never meant to be me,” muttered Newt, hands tugging away from his friend. His voice was barely above a whisper. “Alby should have been there. Alby would have save more of them.”

Thomas was too shock to react.

“I was second in command because everyone pitied me,” added Newt. “I’m not a great leader. I did the best I could and it wasn't enough.”

“That’s not true.”

“I can’t walk!” interrupted Newt, as his breathing quickened. “And I might turn into a crank at anytime!”

“Newt.”

“So many person are dead because of me. Of what I told them to do! Of the decisions I took!”

“WCKD did that, not you. You told me, in the pit, that we didn’t have a choice,” tried Thomas but Newt couldn’t stop now. The words were getting out and there was no stopping.

“Thomas!” cut Newt exasperated. “You don’t understand the responsibilities? There are those mornings when I can’t even get up. I don’t even want to! It’s like my body don’t want be here, like I can’t move or breath,” choked out Newt a hand coming up to dry his eyes. He did not dare to move the one still caught in Thomas’s. “I want to go home but there's nowhere because there never was a place. It was all WCKD. And I keep on thinking, what if Alby never found me that day in the Maze, maybe more people would be alive, maybe if I wasn’t-“

Thomas pushed his hand against the side of Newt’s face drying some of the tears. “Don’t do that to yourself. We did the best we could and I don’t think anybody could have done better than you. We didn't have a choice.”

“I know…” sighed Newt. “I just… I can’t do it.”

Thomas stood up. “You know I’m terrible with those pep talks because you’re always the one who find what to say. But let me tell you, all of those things you are feeling, we all are dealing with it. But now we have the chance to start again, make this place a home, our home. We need to give it time.”

Newt nodded slowly still not daring to look up.

“And you can walk,” laughed Thomas. “You ran around with that limp while continuously being chased by cranks! Nobody's asking you to run a marathon now.” That got a smile from the blond. “And Brenda's doing amazing, what we gave you was the cure. You are not going to turn,” promised Thomas letting the silence fall down between them. Thomas pushed Newt’s face up. “Nothing will happen to you, not while I'm around.”

“Tommy…” sighed Newt as Thomas’s fingers trailing on his cheek.

“And all those people,” He said pointing to the rock outside. “Their names are also on me. I was part of WCKD, I tried to save Theresa!” he laughed bitterly. “I told you guys to trust her. It’s all on me.”

“It’s not,” mumbled Newt stopping Thomas’s hand from running through his hair. “You saved us, Tommy. You saved me twice, at the very least.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow, hazelnut eyes running on the blond’s face. “My blood barely counts, and I don’t believe that being stabbed with a sword count as “saved” really…”

“I remember the gun,” said Newt looking down as he said those words his fingers played with his sleeves.

Thomas wasn’t sure what to answer, they hadn’t talk about it and to be honest Thomas hoped Newt didn’t remember. He didn't have any other choice, he wasn’t watching Newt blow is head off in the Last City.

“I would have died in the Glade,” continued Newt eyes fixed on the blue sleeves of his sweat, seemingly not saying those words from courage but exhaustion. “I hated that place. It was only a matter of time before I tried again. “

Thomas wanted to reach out, take those ideas out of Newt’s head, to repeat again and again to the blond that it was over. That it would never happen again, that he had one word to say and Thomas would go back to find them and kill them.

“You have nothing to feel guilty for, Tommy,” said Newt softly but coming back on less shaky and painful grounds. “You got us out, not Alby, not Minho, not me, you.”

“We all did it,” Thomas said trying to calm his mind, his fears and angers. “You can’t change my mind, Newt.” Thomas sat back down next to him on the bed. “Like I can’t change yours.”

Newt shrugged still not looking up, “Maybe we can both share the burden then?”

Thomas smiled at that, because he could do that, he could do anything if it knew that Newt was by his side.

“And you’re a great leader, you know?” asked Thomas so softly Newt did not even tried to fight it. Thomas nudged him with his elbow. “None of the Gladers would have followed me out. Without you, I would not have been able to even get back out there! We would have all died in that place. You centred me every time I was losing it. When I learned I was working with WCKD or when we were lost in the scorch…”

“Being depressed, or whatever is it you feel, doesn’t define what you are,” continued Thomas. “What happen in the maze doesn’t have to hold you back, like you told me. We are here and we are different. Now we need a leader. And, all those things you just talked about makes you an amazing leader; you are practical, cold-headed but understanding and kind. You care more about the others than anything else.”  
Thomas chuckled, “You broke into the last safest building in the world to get your friend out as you were hallucinating and turning into a crank for fuck’s sake. All the way through, with a limp, and only Gally and I as backup!”

“You’re a great backup,” mumbled Newt smiling too. "And this was not my idea."

“And cheeky enough to point out the flaws in my plans,” Thomas laughed. “What did you tell us after we decided jump out the window?”

Even hiding his face in his hands, Newt could not hide his blush. “You told us to jump and then said you weren’t even sure if we would survive!”

“Bloody inspired,” laughed Thomas holding his sides. “You stood there, like Great.” He started mimicking or trying at least to pull off Newt’s accent. “Great. We're all bloody inspired.”

“I don’t sound like that,” Newt laughed out-loud, and tried to push him off the bed. “Knock it off!”

Thomas decided to aim low and started tickling him. Newt could not stop laughing, as the other boy pushed him on the bed.

The fight was rapidly ruled out with Thomas pinning down the blond against the mattress. Newt fought bravely but Thomas did have the advantage of surprise from the beginning and two functioning lungs. Thomas had shown no pity and continued to torture Newt as he begged for mercy for another minute.  
Finally both had to catch their breath, but still ready for another round, slightly on the edge because Thomas knew Newt would never give up that easily and Newt would never trust Thomas when he had that smirk on his lips.

Newt relaxed under Thomas's weight, stolen seconds flying by, eyes still dreamy from the laughter. Thomas’s eyes fell down to the other boy’s lips, realising that petty wars and heartfelt conversations reminiscing of old scars were not the only option anymore and that peace and just recklessly enjoying the moment seemed much more appealing. It would have been so easy to kiss him, but Thomas was not crazy enough to try. He had jump off a tower, run into the maze, and cross the Scorch with that boy, but somehow a kiss seemed even more careless than what he usually did.  
Thomas tried to focus on something else but only noticed that Newt seemed as lost as him. For the first time since Thomas met him in the Maze Newt looked like he should always have, flushed cheeks, a large smile, teary eyes for laughing too much and blond strands falling all over his face.

Before Thomas could rethink his course of action, someone bragged into the tent.

“I heard screaming! Is everyone okay?!” Shouted Minho breathless, a shotgun in hands.

Thomas was too embarrassed and quickly sat up, "Minho?"

Newt started to crack up. The boys turned to the blond thinking he finally drove himself crazy.

“We’re bloody mental!” Newt tried to explain between fits of laughter and tears, holding his sides in mild pain. “Someone screams and your first reaction is to rush in with a shotgun!”

That said, both Thomas and Minho turned to stare at the gun in his hands, and around them, the tent, the normality of it all, the sea around, the speech Vince had given them when they arrived in the back of their heads. They all started laughing.

“I was just being careful!” tried to explain Minho between tears. That did not help, Newt laughed harder, rolling on the side. Minho tried to calm down and lessen the blame with a “Thomas would have done the same thing!”

Thomas shouted no and threw a pillow for good measure.

Once pillows were involved, all hell broke lose, and the boys could not remember last time they laughed so hard.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments and sorry for the delay... I just kept on having doubts about the scene’s organisation. I think it might be a bit slow but I just don’t want to rush things for the boys… Anyway as usual, I hope you like it!


	3. Somebody Else

 

 

Newt had been crying. Thomas just saw him sitting down next to Minho with a quiet smile on his lips. He looked normal enough but Thomas just knew what had happened. It had barely been a week since they started walking around camp and Thomas wasn't sure if it was helpful or distressing.

  
Newt had been crying, the slight red from his eyelids might have been a hint for Thomas but it could have been anything to others; maybe some sand caught in his eyes? Salt from the sea? Or were the black circles around his eyes simply stronger today?  
But Thomas knew the truth, he also knew that Newt would have never cry in public. Keeping it together was part of the duty becoming of the second in command. Those habits had sticked with the blond since. Even when he told Thomas about the Flare or when Alby was killed, Newt had stayed quiet, pulling himself together without a word. Thomas hated it.  
But Newt had cried, of that he was sure. Thomas knew it by the way Newt was holding the minimum eye contact with his friends. By the way he held himself, hallowed, like he knew how to let his body show control and calm but too tired to actually look comfortable in those situations.

Thomas grabbed a second plate. Newt looked back at him looking down at Thomas’s hands. He smiled, a quiet thank you as Thomas walked toward them with the food. And once again Newt eyes left his too early going back to wander around the table, leaning slightly away from Minho who was retelling a thrilling story about his day.

 

“Careful it’s hot,” Thomas managed to whispered as he slide the pale across the table to blond.

 

Newt nodded, adding another thanks. Minho continued his story about maritime life in the area as he waved at Gally. Newt tensed as he waved back walking to get a plate first. Thomas let his foot press against Newt’s under the table. The blond glanced at him with a more calm expression.

 

“Why do you never do that for us?” complained Frypan sitting down next to Thomas.

 

“Do what?” asked Thomas grabbing the spoon Newt was holding out for him before digging in into the wonderful chicken stew.

 

“This,” mentioned Frypan, waving between the two. “The spoon, the food, don’t think I didn’t see you exchange blankets. And all the staring instead of talking. If I didn’t know better I’ll think you’re married or something. Did we miss something while you guys were running in the Last City?”

 

The name froze the table. Minho’s attention got dragged back as he quietly glanced back and forth to his friends waiting patiently for an answer. If that wasn’t suspicious. Newt glanced at Thomas trying to find something to answer, to brush it off but he didn’t.

  
Thomas tried to trace back their path Last City and each conversation with Newt. Married maybe not, but they were right, something had happened. Thomas wasn’t sure how to qualify it.  
His fingers unconsciously grabbing the neckless in his pocket, remembering pressing his hand on Newt’s forehead in the metallic staircase of WCKD’s tower, minutes before barging in and getting Minho out. It was few seconds, Thomas brushing his blond strands away, confirming that Newt’s fever was skyrocketing. ‘It’s okay,’ hissed Newt batting Thomas’s hand away as he tried loaded his gun. Only the urgency of having to get to Minho tore Thomas’s eyes and hands away.  
Why did Thomas kept thinking about those moment as if he was missing something? Wishing he had done something more? Like he should have, protected him more, taken him in his arms, kiss him?

 

“Who’s married?” interrupted Sonya passing by and sitting down at their table, already chewing on a piece of chicken. Thomas jumped breaking away from Newt’s stare going back to the study of Frypan’s stew.

 

“Newt and Thomas,” said Minho more than happy to change subject back to teasing his best friends about their bromance.

 

“They are,” Growled Gally siting down. “And it’s disgustingly sweet.”

 

Minho laughed while Newt just rolled his eyes.

 

“I think they’d be great for each others,” added Brenda sitting down next to Minho.

 

“Well, if everybody already agreed on our fate, maybe we should try,” teased Thomas looking up to the blond in front of him, his knee bumping into his.

 

“Is that your way of proposing?” smirked Newt, and Thomas smiled brighter not at the jokes nor the comments but the way Newt relaxed, his eyes coming back to the present and the people around us.

 

Frypan whistled, and started joking about being off the hook for the party because of everyone had such a low standard on wedding cake.

 

Sonya grumbled a “this is not happening” from her sit.

 

“Talking about perfect relationship,” smirked Minho. “I’ve got an announcement.” Thomas and Newt looked up at each others both realising at the same time where this was going. Brenda blushed looking half-proud, half-embarrassed to have to listen to that fool made an idiot of himself. But at least, it was her fool, as it seems by Minho’s next words.

 

“I have got the honour to announce that the ferocious-est,” “That’s not a word,” winced Sonya when Brenda just rolled her eyes. " and the coolest girl on that whole island, decided date my sorry-ass,” finished Minho smiling.

 

Frypan decided it was appropriate to clap and Harriet to kiss Brenda on the cheek. “For good luck,” she said. “You’ll need it.”

 

Newt smiled watching as Thomas indulged into some bullying. “Keeping secrets from your best friends?!" he chided. "How dare you!?!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Discovering the island was an interesting activity for Newt. It was walking on seashells while tripping in the sand, getting sun burns and randoms thanks for whatever the hell they did but it was so much better than laying in bed.

 

“And that’s why you should be in charge,” joked bitterly Vince looking at the shore. His face twisted with frustration and worries. “They just don’t listen to me.”

 

Newt stood next to him, concerned as well. It was the middle of the day, at its hottest. He had ended up looking for shade next to the only real adult here as the small group were getting ready to leave. “Do they all come back?”

 

Vince sighed, hand running across his face. “Last time they did,” he said in disbelief. “All of them came back after an hour.”

 

“What happen if they don’t?” Asked Newt, not moving his eyes away from them.

 

A hand passed on Newt’s forearm grasping his wrist, forcing him to look behind him.

 

“You sound just like me,” smiled Thomas, his hair still messed up from the shower.

 

Thomas had been doing that since they decided to move around, sneaking up on him. Minho and Brenda were definitely amused by Thomas’s over-protective behaviour but didn’t dare to comment. At any point Thomas was just ready to jump in and sweep Newt off his feet. Everyone found it endearing but it was Gally who complained it was all “painfully cheesy” and Vince who silently agreed.

 

Newt stared at him a bit dazed and Vince looked unimpressed, so Thomas just continued. “In front of the maze, remember?”

 

Newt blinked suddenly remembering. “Oh, yes… When Alby got stung by a Griever, and you and Minho almost died?” guessed Newt. “Don’t worry, I remember. I spent my night pacing in front of that bloody gate thinking I’ll never see any of you again.”

 

“Oh! Come on,” chided Thomas suddenly feeling terrible for bringing that up. His hand ran against Newt’s arm. “Just come with us! You don’t even have to go far. We can make them promise not to splash you.”

 

“I’m not going swimming, Tommy,” asserted Newt.

 

“You don’t have to swim! Just walk, I’ll stay close.”

 

Newt rose his eyebrows, taunting Thomas to tell him why this should change his mind. Even if it might have a bit, but no one needs to know that.

 

“Did you ever regret following one of my plans?” laughed Thomas sobering up fast. “Actually don’t answer that. What’s going on with me today?” wondered the brunet not understanding how he could just keep on bringing up those subjects.

 

“Does he ever shut up?” murmured Vince to himself not believing the inadequacy of Thomas at times.

 

“It’s not your day, is it?” chuckled Newt, Thomas despise it all smiled softly at the sound.

 

Vince was getting sick of those two turning around each others like stupid lovebirds much faster than he planned. On the moment, he had a little thought for Gally who actually held back all that time.

 

“He is coming,” declared Vince, his hand hitting Newt’s shoulder, making the blond step forward.

 

“What?” choked out Newt.

 

“To keep a eye on all of you. They don’t listen to me anyway,” Vince shrugged already running away with a last smile. “And I’ve got work to do!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was not that bad, decided Newt. His feet digging in the sand, fresh water licking his legs up to his knees. It was blessing in such high temperatures, Newt sighed diving his arms in, thinking when back to the Glade they would lay under the trees unable to do much more than wait, or when they had to ration water in the Scorch.

  
This was heaven.

It was paradise.

There was no doubts.

  
Each day Newt would wake up, look at the beach and the sea and be stuck into wondering quietly why didn’t he dream more back in the Maze, or the Scorch. Why he didn’t believe in themselves more?  
The guilt of doubted dared to spread in his body, tasting terribly bittersweet in his mouth. The smell of victory wasn’t strong enough in the middle of the afternoon, the stone perched in the middle of the camp was a difficult reminder of what they lost, of who didn’t have the chance to be here, some of them who never give up.  
So why did he end up here? Did he deserve to be here after having giving times after time?

Newt had given up on himself too many times to understand any of it. Being stuck in bed all day long only reminded him that not so long ago he was in the same position… Maybe it was for similar reasons, he had giving up in the Maze, in the Last City…

If he had known?

However, Newt couldn't lie to himself; all the things they went through were still scared on their skin and haunting their minds. It could have been easier if they knew all of this was possible, if they knew they just had fight hard enough. However, now he also knew the price to pay and it was terribly high, so high, just like the tower they jumped from. The fear of dying would disappear if they knew but the sensation, standing on the edge of the tower, looking down, freezing winds hitting your face, armed men on the other side of the door and the fall. Newt could remember counting his heartbeats, the speed increasing at each meter of free fall, losing sight of the water pond. Crashing in the water had been so painful, icy water invading the clothes, crushing his lungs as they got dragged under water.

Gally thought it was very cool, Newt felt sick every time he ended up thinking about it.

 

“You okay?” finally asked Thomas unable to read Newt’s face.

 

Thomas had been glancing back and forth at this friend, and hover in a precise five meter radius around him, as if scared the blond would just suddenly get caught into a violent stream and get carried away. They were not even that far away from the shore.

Newt did not complain, his legs still terribly weak and had no intention of choking out sea water just yet. Each unstable step Newt took, Thomas was watching carefully, but every time the blond would look up Thomas would act as if he wasn’t just ready to jump in and was simply enjoying the water.

Brenda rolled her eyes their attics and jumped into the water leaving them to it.

 

“Yeah,” answered Newt uncertain.

 

Thomas was feeling guilty for pushing Newt to come with them now. Maybe it was too soon, they had kept their t-shirts and shorts, protecting from sun burns and the scars from marking. Even more so they were supposed to keep their gunshot and stab wound, respectively, as dry as possible.  
But the technicalities were not the issue. It was the first memory coming back to Thomas’ mind when he pull his head underwater a week earlier. The fear and the adrenaline from the jump back in the Last City, the sudden rush of blood fighting as the freezing water ran against his skin and soaked his clothes. He was thrown back to the explosion going on around them and the ecstasy from surviving that bloody fall, and finding Minho. And then it just went down hill.

 

“I know something is wrong,” muttered Thomas. “I was written all over your face last night.”

 

“It’s nothing…” breathed in the blond, surprised maybe than Thomas saw it. “I just, I just couldn’t stop thinking about stupid stuff…You know?”

 

Thomas nodded slowly. They all had it. “Yeah…” answered Thomas. “I keep on thinking back when you-” He stopped just when he realised that maybe he did not want to say those things out loud and stop that disastrous morning. Everything seemed so perfect here, to the point where anything that happened before couldn’t have been.

Newt did not seem to mind the lack of words, his eyes locked farther away on their friends shouting and laughing in deeper water.

 

“You should have let me answer,” said Newt despite himself as he started back for the shore.

 

“What?” Thomas asked looking up from the water.

 

“If I regret following your plans,” explained Newt slowly, wondering if it was maybe too soon to talk about before, about the letter. If there was a time at all.

 

The blond focused on moving toward the sand. After all they’d been through, that evening spent talking on the rooftop, Newt just did not know what was stopping him from just asking Thomas if he read the letter. There was nothing shameful about it. There might have been the bitter taste of defeat settling in his mouth every time he thought about it but he was not ashamed of it.

Newt turned to search Thomas face but the boy stubbornly kept his eyes away following him in silence.

 

“Did you read it?” finally asked Newt. It had to come out one way or another.

 

Thomas kept watching the water stream between his fingers. “Yeah… The night I woke up.”

 

“So you know my answer,” continued Newt trying to keep moving when all he wanted was to look at Thomas face, to try to guess what he was thinking.

 

Thomas shrugged, following silently eyes still fixed on the water.

 

“I don’t regret following you,” articulated Newt.

 

“You were not going to write in your last letter that everything had been my fault,” retorted somehow bitterly.

 

“You don’t believe me, then?” scoffed Newt anger running in his veins, not toward Thomas, not WCKD nor the world, just himself. Wasn’t it clear enough? “I should have told you earlier.”

 

“You died!” cut Thomas finally looking up. He was not going to hear it, Newt had to understand. “You died because of me!”

 

The blond raised his eyebrows definitely questioning those two statements but Thomas did not find it funny nor useful.

 

“You didn’t! But you almost did,” corrected Thomas, tired of his friend not understanding, not recognising the danger he was in, how close Thomas was from losing him. “All of it because of me. You’re not an idiot, you must regretted following me. I should have stopped you! I almost killed you!”

 

Newt grabbed Thomas’s arm. “You didn’t.” Newt said clearly, not detaching his eyes from Thomas. “I regret many things but not following you. I stand by what I wrote. Stop torturing yourself.” In spite of himself, Newt’s hand moved from Thomas’ arm to his face. “Stop this.”

 

It was the truth, and it was so precious now that he had the chance to make it clear, to make Thomas understand. He wanted to erase any possible doubts, forever, to just throw it all out, because Thomas did not deserve the guilt, the doubts and the what ifs. They were free from WKCD and from the past.

  
Thomas didn’t react but Newt noticed quickly his fingers against Thomas’s cheek and decided to step back to cross the most difficult area. Newt fall down, knees digging inside the damp sand, breathless. Thomas sat down next to him, eyes searching for a good enough reason to bring him back inside.

 

“I’m not torturing myself,” mumbled Thomas ruefully.

 

“Good. And I don’t regret a thing,” repeated Newt, hands digging inside the sand. Maybe that way they will not go where they didn’t belong. “Making you a runner, following you into the maze, into the Scorch, going to the Last City, all of it. I meant what I wrote in the letter, you need to understand that Tommy, because I’m not letting you believe such a bloody stupid thing anymore. I would to it all again and again if I had too.”

 

His friend finally down, brown eyes searching into Newt’s, checking for the pain behind his eyes. Newt’s voice had started to crack and Thomas hated it, it had been such a nice afternoon.

 

A strong wave crashed on them making the blond jump. Newt stood up so quickly, Thomas barely had time to help him. Newt moved closer to his friend, his arms grabbing unto Thomas’s shoulders for balance with a wince.

 

“Sorry,” chuckled the blond holding his side.

 

“It’s okay,” mumbled Thomas, as Newt found his footing again.

 

“So?” demanded Newt looking all business again.

 

“Okay, okay, I hear you. Can you understand that maybe I regret putting you in danger? Almost killing you?” winced Thomas hoping nobody would hear that stupid fight they were having. The cloudy but steaming hot weather had kept most of the people inside the others were playing father away on the rocks. Plus, they were so close Thomas just had to whisper it.

 

“Well, I believe it was worth it.”

 

“You almost dying was worth it?” snarled Thomas.

 

“Yes.” said Newt smiling, so terribly certain. Thomas wish he could kiss him right here or push him in the sand, because really?!

 

“Tommy, look at what you’ve done!” continued Newt, moving his hand from Thomas’ arm to wave around. “Look around you! This is heaven on earth.”

 

Thomas’s smile was worth Newt’s acting out. “Don’t regret anything,” repeated Newt. “Because we’ve made it here in the end.”

 

Another wave crashed in, destroying the sand under the boy’s feet. Newt insecurely stepped away from the sea. Thomas’s hands came up around his arm as to hold him. Newt chuckled trying to apologise but Thomas did not let him go, sliding his hands behind is back holding him closer in one of those awkward hugs.

 

“You’re an idiot,” sighed Thomas against his neck.

 

Only Newt could have convinced Thomas to continue and get Minho out even if he was dying. Thomas felt so stupid for not having tried something else. Every time he was left with those thoughts, Thomas wanted to shout, run away, his hands shaking. He hated himself for how close it had been, how when Newt told him they should only focus on getting Minho how he found a way to manipulate Thomas into doing it.

Thomas was angry at both of them, Newt for letting go and myself for just blindly following. But it had always been the case, Newt had never been focused on self-preservation and that drove Thomas crazy now. Crazy that he could have let Newt continue like that when he was someone Thomas cared so much about. What kind of friend is he?

Teresa made her mistake but Thomas was just not enough. He let Newt do the little tricks, which were going to get him killed and Thomas let him. Thomas let him and like an idiot realised only at the end what it meant.

 

“I wish there had been another way,” explained Thomas. “You shouldn’t have had…”

 

Newt nodded, , silently agreeing but not daring to speak up.

 

Thomas had felt him slowly dying off next to him, carried him half way through the city. When the blond repeated again and again, begging for Thomas to leave him, only then Thomas realised there was no way he would let go of him.

Well, it had been too fucking late.

Thomas had found out slightly late that he was not doing anything without Newt. Teresa, Chuck, Minho, everyone leaving and going, but trying to keep Newt alive in those last minutes was the hardest thing he ever did. He was in pain, and Thomas couldn’t do it. Thomas realised right there, that if Newt did not make it, he wouldn’t neither.  
That idiot kept on apologising, again and again, for something he could not even control. It was okay, he wished he could do anything to take the pain away but that was the only thing he couldn’t do, Thomas couldn’t kill Newt because he had no idea how to live without him.

And then Newt had died.

Thomas didn’t know if he loved him like friend, a brother, maybe all of it, maybe none, but it was like a part of him died there. But then, Newt didn’t die. Those it doesn’t change the facts, it doesn’t changed how Thomas felt and feels now.

 

Thomas was not going to miss this second chance.

 

“Don’t do that to me again,” said Thomas sharply.

 

Newt held on tighter.

 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He laced his fingers into Thomas’s hair. Seconds started ticking, it was so quiet and yet the trees bristled against the wind just above them, almost threatening to fall. They haven’t cleared that part of the beach.

 

With Newt against him breathing calmly, his friends’ laughs, and that the sound of the crashing waves surrounding them, Thomas could agree now.

 

“Okay, maybe this is heaven,” smiled Thomas, hair brushing Newt’s face.

 

Newt laughed out, stepping out of the hug and Thomas could not believe this was now his life. Newt’s hands remained on Thomas’s soaked shirt blinking from the sun has he tried to look at Thomas before stepping closer.

Maybe Thomas should just kiss him, lock this moment in his mind as everything being perfect, something no one could ever take from them. He would have never hesitated before, but before that he didn’t know how it felt to lose Newt.

 

“Took you long enough to recognise it,” teased Newt.

 

He detached his eyes from Newt’s lips only to notice the blond was doing the same. His large brown eyes just looked up a second after from Thomas’ lips, blushing from being caught, almost ready to step away. Thomas just couldn’t look away from the blond. Thomas didn’t need more and brought his hand up under Newt’s ear, curving at the base of his head.

 

Thomas nodded quietly, voice repeating itself again and again, don’t be stupid, don’t waste your second chance, don’t lose him.

 

And like every time someone, who isn’t Newt, tried to reason him, it didn’t work. He was going to do it.

 

He stepped closer and just leaned in slowly enough to make sure Newt could step back or slap him in the worst case scenarios. Newt’s fingers clenched softly to his t-shirt, when Thomas hit the corner of his mouth. In retrospect, he should have try to better aiming more for the other’s lips but as always Thomas acts without any plan. Luckily, with barely a second of hesitation Newt moved his head catching Thomas’s lips. Thomas other hand automatically shot up cupping the blond’s face, breathless, slightly panicked and completely underprepared for that turn of event.

Thomas moved away a second later. Realisation like a cold bucket of water crashed down on him in two steps; firstly this was amazing and secondly he just kissed his best friend.

 

“Sorry,” babbled Thomas but his smile wouldn’t leave his face. He was terribly happy with Newt looking breathless and his hands still on Thomas’s t-shirt.

 

“It’s okay, my bad,” mumbled Newt blushing, but his hand laid still on his t-shirt almost too still, almost daring Thomas to take it away. Newt’s heart started racing and was left completely lost when Thomas moved away. “I’m sorry too.”

 

“Thomas! Newt!” The two boys turned, stepping away. Sonya was standing by the seafront glaring at the boys. “Are you coming in or what?”

 

Thomas could have swear hearing Minho lamenting in the background and Frypan curse.

 

Harriet came by behind a arm wrap around her waist, picking her up and throwing her a bit further in the water cutting her rant and starting war.

 

“Sorry. Don’t mind us,” smiled Harriet.

 

Thomas was left staring. What should he do now??? Newt wouldn’t look at him, his hand let go.

 

“Thomas! Minho! Frypan!” shouted Vince suddenly coming down to the beach slightly worried. “We need you guys to help with the Cabin! Now!”

 

Newt didn’t turn to Vince nor waited for Thomas’s next word and just pushed Thomas toward their intermediate leader.

 

“Just go,” he ordered and Thomas just listened. It felt so wrong.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Count on Thomas to make harsh crazy decisions before backing out leaving everyone dazed and confused.

It’s been hours and Thomas had just disappeared, apparently drowned in work.

Newt stepped back and forth in the storage. Small and careful steps, he couldn’t properly pace along the room like he used to in the Homestead but difficultly dragging his weight between two sleeves was enough for him for now.

 

What was Thomas playing at? What was he doing?

 

That actually was a good question. What was Newt doing now?

 

Resting, the word everyone had in their lips. But in reality it was a word disguised, trying to hide its real meaning with a therapeutical sweet and productive purpose. In reality, Newt was doing nothing but waiting because there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t get to work until he sort out his limp. Hence he had to exercise to control its breath and rebuild his muscle. That’s what they said at the medbay.

But all of those things were tiring, bringing back that issue; he couldn’t wake up, he couldn’t sleep enough.

He had welcome that change after spending few days in the coma, but now it was back when they were on the run from the maze to the last city, short on sleep, short on everything; temper or patience, answers and time. Everything was such a burden, a concern, unless Thomas and Minho were around.

 

But even they were a worry now.

Not Minho, but Thomas, they always had been close but now he started to notice the way people look. They had grown close enough when Minho went missing. Close enough to know every habits, every future decisions or answers of the other. It didn’t seem weird at the time, practical really and engaging. Minho and Thomas always got along working out situations that were rapidly deteriorating, fighting, running, with Newt it was different. It was less coordinated with Newt and more to do with complementary mindset, what Thomas would lack of Newt was drowning in. Rushed last-minute decisions against excruciating debates and deliberation ringing inside of Newt’s head. Sudden lash out of force and the cold bloodedness of the blond.

Not only did they make it work but it came so naturally Newt could always find himself looking out for Thomas, as if everything should be in rhythm not by but with him. Waking up together, fetching coffee for each others, blankets, foods, it was normal, it was usual but now it felt like it was too much. Or not enough.

Everyone was looking at them for informations, comments and stories. They went to the Last City, saved the last immunes. Newt could see them whispering and gasping when Thomas would just throw a blanket at him sitting down close enough to brush the blond’s shoulder and weave his leg under Newt’s knee. He was cold, it help Newt rest his bad leg, and it was comfortable? And so what? Newt never questioned it, but the way people looked at them made Newt question everything.

Maybe they were missing out something? Maybe it was weird? He knew girls were after Thomas, who wouldn’t? He was nice, funny, strong, they said. Newt knew exactly what they meant, Thomas had that smile that just always brings you back to the present, pushing you down back down on the ground almost right in time, it was contagious, it made you feel alive. Thomas was pure adrenaline with that stupid way of running, as if by putting too much force and speed on each steps it threatened the totality of his balance. And those stupid eyes…

 

Newt sighed. Maybe he was falling a bit for the boy. Maybe it had been a while. But it was never the right time and it has been like that for so long it felt like it would never change. Newt loved it, that simplicity they found themselves in. So close, barely one glance and they could understand and say much more things to each others than a 10minute debate. It was a quick flashing smile and lingering stare. It was safe, there was nothing to lose if there was nothing to begin with.

 

But that was a lie, Newt didn’t write a letter to Minho or Frypan. No, somehow that nothing natural ordinary relationship, that Thomas and Newt have weaved together, had left Thomas being the only person in Newt’s life to matter.

Newt had made peace with it all, Minho and Thomas with the letter but was left to face another question. What does he do now with those ever-growing feelings for the boy and so little experience at life. “Normal” life.

It seemed like such a foreign and stupid concept after it all.

 

This place was no second chance, it was a tentative paradise and Newt was not ready to disturb it. However Thomas unsurprisingly seemed to ignore it. What was he doing on the beach? His hands travelling Newt’s skin? Thomas had to know what he was doing to the blond, or was he that dense?

Was he just being his friend? Or did he actually meant to kiss him?

What were they even going to do? Go out together and then what? What would they do that they don’t do already? Does that mean people around them will change?

 

That was such a stupid idea.

 

He knew he was overthinking it, but really? What do people mean by it? Living happily after? After what? After being used as rat lab? After getting memories erased? Our own families taken away from us? Our friends taken away?

Harriet and Sonya were getting on great. Even though, they had not much more than what Thomas and Newt were doing. Outside from the kissing part, that’s for sure. Not that he will thank them, seeing his sister kissing someone was definitely something he wanted to never have acknowledge...

 

Surely, Thomas was just acting up, he loved Teresa. Newt had seen it in his eyes in the Last City. Thomas likes girls with strong character, a tendency to brought problems unto themselves and terrible sense of duty. Drama queens if you ask him.

So why in the name of everything that is good, would he see Newt any differently than what he always had? They were friends, they’d still be friends. Newt had just jumped into conclusion…

 

And Teresa… It was like she will always be here to torture Newt. Teresa’s death was on Thomas’s conscience, constantly even though Thomas tried to hide it. That and almost losing Newt must have left a lasting impression on him. Newt could not ignore the possibility that Thomas had no idea of what he was doing and was probably just misunderstand what he was feeling.

Soon enough, Thomas would crack and open up about the love of his life Teresa and forget about that stupid crazy kiss on the beach. He will show some interest into some other girls on the camp. He would make it work, because after all he has his memory back which Newt had no idea about. Because all he knew was how to try survive in the maze, outside the maze, he know nothing but running and hiding. He knew nothing but keeping people together, curing their doubts and help out but nothing about being happy.

 

Did he even belong here? His friends and family were here but everything was so different now. Sonya was here, but what could he do now?

 

How was he suppose to act now?

 

All those people around him, that he found along the way hovered around him, close by but somehow still unreachable. A sister? A boyfriend? A future? It felt so unreal that Newt thought it was stupidly naive. He could feel it, but had no idea how to behave, what to do, what was worth it and what would reveal to be a big mistake. What was he going to do?  
Maybe he should have died. There was so many times he should have. He wouldn’t have to face that terrible reality now, the harsh and static reality where everything was real.

Everything was fine.

 

“You okay, Newt?” asked Brenda walking him almost killing the blond from a heart attack.

 

“Hey Brenda,” tried to smile Newt.

 

“You missed diner, Thomas and Minho are still not back… It was a very quiet thing,” sighed Brenda before turning back to him. “Is everything okay?”

 

Newt put on his most innocent impression and shrugged. “I’m fine.”

 

“Are you?” Brenda was suspicious. “Jorge told me that you’ve been pacing in here all day, it doesn’t seem fine to me…”

 

“Just exercising,” he smiled but Brenda didn’t even tried to answer that lie. “It’s nothing, just tired.”

 

“It’s okay not to be. You kinda died after all.” She said with that smile, trying to joke but also holding out a helping hand. She used that tone all the time with Minho. Probably how they got that close in the small amount of time they knew each other. He never thanked her for taking care of Minho but Newt had the impression she didn’t just do it out of the graciousness of her heart. She needed Minho as much as he needed her.

 

“I almost died. ‘Almost’ being the key word here,” repeated Newt with a smug smile. “All in all, I think we’re doing great.”

 

She conceded it with a small bow of the head, “Sure.” Her hands flew to her hips, sounding almost accusatory. “All in all, you’re doing amazingly well.”

 

“You make it sounds like something bad.” Frowned Newt stomping in his pace to come sit down next to her as she make an inventory of the continent they had here.

 

“Everything is going well, then?”

 

“Some things are easier than others,” continued Newt sympathetically.

 

“Such as?” investigate Brenda while keeping her eyes down as if it did not matter that much.

 

“Like there are those little things that take a quite some time to get used to,” said Newt. “Like this feeling like we are still locked up in the Glade, or watching the sun rise over the Glade with Alby as the others awakes up. Small steps but we will still get through it, right?”

 

“Do you often think about what happened before?”

 

“Before?” repeated Newt bitterly. “Before coming here? Before the Glade? Before the Last City?”

 

“All of it?” she said, and they both knew what she was scared to say, she was scared to used those words. Do you often think about laying dead in the Last City? Do you often think about staring at the Maze’s wall incapable for breathing.

 

Brenda had been in spite of it all, the psychologist of the camp. She was calm but fierce. She had that ability to turn words into tools to crave out people’s fears and make it okay, somehow.

  
There was no point into lying to her.

After all Newt had no reason too, it was not like she wouldn’t know the second he did. So maybe it was out of respect for her, she did save his life. He liked her, Brenda was always a steady friend, she saved them, repeatedly. She had shown many time she could overcome tricky situation on her own, make her way through it all. So no, Newt was not going to lie to her.

 

“I try not to think about it too much,” he said honestly hand grasping his own sleeve. “Overthinking is something I indulged way too often and I prefer to put that energy into things happening here and now.” If only she knew how much energy he was putting into deciding what to do now.

 

Brenda was having none of it, waving the blond off as she continue fetching out tea box and shoving them on the shelves. “Your friends died. You don’t want to think or talk about it?”

 

“It’s been a while,” confessed Newt, not guilty but neither lightly. They weren’t talking about his friends, about Alby, Chuck, Wilson. They were only his family and they were dead. They would never get to live that life here in the safe haven, to go swimming or napping on the beach with no more worries on their minds.

 

“I made peace with it,” confessed Newt. “When we were in WCKD’s custody and in the Scorch. We all had to do it.”

 

“You all barely had time to mourn. And Teresa died,” reminded Brenda almost like a reproach, like she knew Newt was trying to down play the all thing. “It’s been barely a month.”

 

“She was not my friend.”

 

Brenda stopped going through the box looking up at the tone. “She saved you,” she told him.

 

“I know,” said Newt trying to move his leg into a more restful position. “And? Does it just forgives her from spending her life helping WCKD?”

 

“She died trying save your life,” repeated Brenda, like Newt didn’t understand. “Don’t you think it’s worth something? Some forgiving? She was doing what she thought was right.”

 

“She didn’t deserve this,” cut Newt not pretending anymore not to be angry about it. His breathing quickened, his fists closing and opening. “Teresa should be alive.”

 

Brenda was going to ask why the harsh tone but Newt beat her to it.

 

“She should be here to witness what her ‘rightful’ thinking did to her friends. She should be looking at Minho in the eyes every bloody morning, having to deal with Thomas’s sudden anxious outbursts, she should been here to deal with the mess she’s made.”

 

Newt paused taking few shaky breath. He knew it was unlike him to be so unforgiving, but he also knew how it felt to see his best friend hurting because of her betrayal, after they gave her all they had to give, she still threw it away, torturing Minho for months and so on to many other immunes.

 

“It’s just too easy to die, throwing the cure to Thomas, delighted of what she did it, redeemed from the pain she caused,” growled Newt. “She saved Thomas! She saved the world! She found the cure! She believes she was right all along! She died as a hero, with her conscience completely clean, thinking all of what she’s done was worth it, that I am the living proof of it.”

Anger run inside Newt’s veins and he hated it, every second of it. He fought it everyday, scared of what could happen, scared of feeling that rage he once have when the Flare took over. But he needed to let it out, and he knew Brenda could deal with it. Brenda was the only one who could listen to him.

 

“I’ve been trying very hard not to say anything because Thomas loved her,” continued Newt. “And I care about him. But if it was up to me, Teresa would never have had her name on the wall. She doesn’t deserve to be remember like Alby, like the other Gladers. They were my family and she help kill them.”

 

Brenda tried to hold his hand but Newt moved away.

 

“She let me jump off that bloody wall!” he hissed. “But that’s okay… I can understand it. But then, when she finally got her memory back, when she had seen what they did to us and experienced it, she still decided to sell us off to WCKD, giving away the position! Getting Minho stuck in that bloody city! Letting me get infected! Killing so many people, so many of my friends!”

 

“Newt, it’s okay.”

 

“No! It’s not okay!” he shouted. “She got away with it. She was selfish and a coward. She committed atrocious things and she should be here with us to pay for it.”

 

Brenda did not move, did not even look up. “You make it sound like being here is a punishment.”

 

Newt didn’t move, didn’t look at her.

 

“Do you think it would have been easier to die in the Last City?” asked Brenda.

 

Newt rolled his eyes saying so quietly that she almost thought she imagined them, “Don’t be naive.”

 

Silent fell on the duo, Brenda had obviously not be ready for those words, for this side of Newt. They all knew it existed, the bitterness and the desperation but it was the first time she heard it. It was not a surprise neither, all of them, Minho, Thomas, any immunes were wrecks. This bitterness was running around the camp like a flu, taking them one by one. PTSD, outburst of anger or plain depression, all of them were facing mirroring issues. She was worried about Newt obviously, mostly since Minho told her about what happened in the maze and earlier.

The boys needed each other now more than ever and she had to make sure Newt was not falling back into bad habits. They all needed to let it out and Teresa was a dangerous subject for Thomas and Minho, so she couldn’t let Newt down for that one time he needed her.

 

“You don’t have to forgive her,” she said turning to the blond, facing him directly, facing the anger and the regrets. Newt glanced at her keeping his body turned to the door away from her ready to leave.

 

“You don’t have to do anything, to feel anything you don’t want to,” she continued. “You can be angry about it, and maybe you should. We all changed so much those past months, it’s okay to be lost and confused about what you feel. It’s okay not to be the same person. You almost died Newt, anyone would understand.”

 

“Of that I’m not sure,” confessed the blond letting Brenda get inside his head. “Thomas and Minho, they just, it’s like nothing has changed but somehow nothing seems normal anymore.”

 

“You got through it all with your friends,” she said. “Now is not the time to doubt them.”

 

“I need to go,” explained vaguely Newt standing up. “Thanks for the talk, I guess…”

 

Brenda nodded slowly, understandably. “I’m sorry you feel like that,” she said calmly. It could have been sarcastic or imperial but it was only soft and concerned.

 

Newt nodded excusing himself.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Thomas felt like an idiot. It was even more annoying because it wasn’t the first time it happened.

 

What was he thinking? Acting out without a plan?

 

Kissing Newt like an idiot, and in front of everyone?

 

Well… not exactly everyone but Minho and Frypan had seen, even maybe Sonya and Harriet. And none of those people knew how to keep a secret.

 

He had kissed few girls already, but had been nothing twisting inside of him, it was harsh and on the heat of the moment. Brenda was barely a rushed memory and Teresa… With Teresa it was desperate. They both knew they were going to die, they had nothing else to lose, it was over. He loved Teresa, there was no doubts. Even through all of her mistakes, those stupid thoughts locked inside of her, the trauma of her mother, Teresa had been a focal point in Thomas’s life, she created the tempo. There was before and after Teresa, before she betrayed them and after.

Hence, understanding what was going with Newt was complicated for Thomas. His memory before the maze was still hazy, but there was no doubts for Thomas, they were both always friends. Anywhere, anyhow it was almost ridiculous how they always fell back in step. And each minute spend with Newt could only be confirmation of it.  
Thomas could have gone through everything without breaking if the blond was standing next to him. Teresa’s betrayal, Minho, anything, it felt like Thomas could get through anything.

Not that they didn’t fight or knew everything about each other, no, it was something more. The six months, they spend together planning a way to get Minho back had been soul crushing and the worst bonding experience possible and still, somehow, Newt stood next to him every time. They kept pushing, together and even when Vince refused to go to the last city, even when it seems there was no way out. Newt knew Thomas was not going to stop. That he was going to do something harsh.  
It was like Newt had the manual on Thomas’s life, he always knew what to do, what to say. In the maze, when Thomas had been lost, confused about his role with WCKD, Newt had found the words, being the calming voice.

  
But Newt was like that with everyone, he was always there for the others, help each of them to keep it together but also keeping the Gladers together.  
And that’s why the Last City changed everything for Thomas. Newt had always been special for him, a stable constant presence. Almost taken for granted, Thomas had felt his world crumble around him when it happened. When he almost lost everything. He almost did because he didn’t realise what Newt was doing to himself.  
He couldn’t lose him again.

 

What was he going to do now? What if Newt didn’t want anything to do with him now? What was he going to say to him next time he sees him?

 

Thomas had absolutely no plan. The only thing he was sure of was that he wanted to stay with his friend. He wanted to kiss him again.

 

“You’re back?”

 

Thomas jumped, turning around to the voice.

 

“Sorry,” smiled Newt walking around the bench. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

 

“It’s, it’s fine,” shuttered Thomas trying to calm himself down. His hands were shaking still, numbed from the clenching his fist without noticing. “Yeah… Just finished, Minho went directly to bed.”

 

“Can I sit?”

 

Thomas nodded didn’t dare to look up, scared of what Newt could see on his face.

 

“Did you get any food?” asked Newt opening up the conversation. The blond had taken a stick and started poking at the fire.

 

“Not yet,” explained Thomas enjoying Newt focus on the fire to look at him. “What about you? Why are you up? Can’t sleep?”

 

“Nah… I just woke up,” said Newt with a shrugged. “I don’t know… It’s like I just can’t really stay asleep.”

 

Thomas had to say something now. Anything but all he could do was watching him, his lips knowing now exactly how it felt to kiss him. Thomas wish he could just get inside his head, to find out what to tell him.

 

“About earlier today,” said Newt. he kept his eyes down, trying to look for words and Thomas knew he had to come up with something first.

 

“If it was too soon and you want to-,” started Newt when Thomas said, “I’ll forget everything if you prefer-“

 

They both looked up chuckling slightly. Thomas elbowed kindly his friend telling him to go for it.

 

“I just…” sighed Newt. “I don’t think you know what you are doing…”

 

Thomas huffed. “Same.”

 

Newt smiled, eyes still on the ground. “But me neither and - I-”

 

Something crashed inside the cabin behind them, loud enough to wake up everyone here. People were shouting and leaving their bed.

 

“What?” asked Thomas standing up.

 

Gally walked out followed by some boy.

 

“Gally! Stop!” he shouted.

 

However he was, didn’t convince Gally who punched him into the ground.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thank you soo much for the comments and Kudos!  
> So, sorry for the Teresa bashing... I just thought it would make sense Newt feels at least a bit bitter about her and personally I kind of needed that too... Not that I don't understand her motivation I just don't think she should be completely forgiven, in the end she made horrifying choices; Minho's treatment was just torture and she put so many people in danger...  
> Anyway, I know some of you likes her and it's okay! I don't think there'll be much Teresa bashing again?  
> Nevertheless thanks for reading!  
> Also chapter's title based on You're Somebody Else from Flora Cash... I can't stop listening to it... So yeah...


	4. Don't Push Me Away

 

Thomas was the first one to move, already at Gally’s level when he was going for another punch. He pushed back the Glader grounding his feet between Gally and the boy.

“What the fuck Gally?”

His eyes ran on his Thomas, confused, upset, his fists closing and opening. “Stay out of it Thomas.”

Thomas scoffed turning away, he walked up the boy, Stefan if he remembered correctly. The boy seemed shaken enough not to say a word, accepting Thomas’s hand. He was furious for the boy though, he did have the stature to fight back against Gally, and even in his right mind Gally had no idea of his strength. Newt was standing now, balance still fragile as he got closer from the boys. The fireplace were few feet away made it hard to see clearly Gally’s face.

“Gally?” called out Newt walking up to his old friend.

“He can’t keep on fucking up, we don’t have time for this,” growled Gally glaring at Stefan. “This greenie needs to learn.”

“What are you on about, shank?” smiled Newt, hand brushing Gally’s arm, amused by the vocabulary choice. “It’s the middle of the night.”

Stefan took a step back. “I don’t know what’s up with him,” hissed the boy. “I was just sleeping!”

“What’s wrong with you?!” shouted Thomas letting Stefan stand on his own. “Stop trying to shield him, Newt. He was always insane.”

Gally didn’t stepped back, levelling Thomas with a glare. “I’ll deal with him, you should go get Alby,” he ushered pushing the blond behind him.

Newt froze letting himself being manhandle from the shock as he finally figure it out.

Thomas stepped closer unaware. “Stay away from Newt,” he threatened.

“Thomas stop,” hissed Newt, hand falling on the taller boy tugging him away, trying to get his attention. “Gally, we are not in the Glade,” said Newt. “This is the safe haven.”

Gally let Thomas out of his sight at once, finally turning back to the blond furious. “Safe haven?” he mocked. “That’s another one of Thomas’s grandiose idea right?”

He backed Newt up against the wall, the blond tripping over himself as he tried to follow him.

“He is trying to turn us against the others!” Growled Gally. “Don’t you see it?”

Thomas laughed bitterly, “Still not over that? It’s not my fault if you’re a coward.”

“All of this is your fault,” growled Gally.

“My fault?! You killed Chuck!” Thomas hissed walking up to him stopping at arm’s reach. “You killed Chuck! You tried to kill me! You shouldn’t be here.”

“Stop it!”shouted Newt moving between the two of them. “Both of you, just stop.”

But there was no more reason in the two boys, Thomas continued to insult Gally who had no idea what was actually going on. Gally stepped in, Newt tried to block his arm but Gally wasn’t paying attention. Newt was pushed against the wall. Wind was knocked out of Newt’s lungs, hissing in pain. Thomas barely looked and blocked Gally’s hit answer with another one sending him back, which all but broke out a fight between them.

Newt coughed, ribs still absorbing the shock when his knees collapsed. He felt sick holding his side, feeling the solid ground under my knees as they gave in. He had no idea what was happening or how long he was lost in the pain of getting his lungs crushed against its bones again.

“I won’t let you destroy everything!” growled Gally.

“You brought it on yourself!” shouted the youngest.

“Thomas!” tried to call Newt but his breath got caught up in a fit of cough and none of the boys reacted too busy trading insults and hits. Gally fell down, hitting his head on the floor but Thomas was not finished with him.

Sonya ran down to them, rushing to Newt’s side. Harriet close behind, and with one smooth motion punched send Thomas flying to the ground with maybe more force than necessary.

 

* * *

 

 

Thomas found himself on the floor, breathless and furious. Harriet was standing above him, clear still hazy from sleep but her stare was deadly. As he tried to slow his air intake, his eyes ran around him, Gally was trying to stand carefully, Sonya was here kneeled down next to. Newt. Thomas finally realising he hadn’t gotten up, arm around his chest, whizzing as he tried to breath in. Thomas rushed to his side Gally forgotten.

“Are you okay?” asked Thomas, and Sonya almost slapped him, her glare clearly warning him to get closer. And frankly Thomas would have preferred that than the look Newt gave him. He was in pain, and didn’t even have to speak up for Thomas to understand he fucked up. But it was Gally’s fault.

“I’m going to kill him,” murmured Thomas.

Harriet heard it and stopped talking quietly to Gally who kept on staring at the scene with fire and hate in his eyes.

“You need to leave,” said Sonya, cutting Thomas short.

“What?!” shouted Thomas.

“She is right,” winced Newt obliviously preferring to add pressure on his lungs a last time than to witness at another one of their fights. He moved away from Thomas putting his arm out for Sonya to help him up. It hurt more than Thomas was willing to admit.

“We need calm,” Sonya continued. “And you’re not helping.”

“Because you just know better,” drawled Thomas. It wasn’t his fault for God sakes!

“No,” bite back Newt, his breathing catching on each words, annoyed at Thomas's unnecessary combativeness and his own stupid feelings for that idiot. “You need to leave because you’re brash, reckless, hot heated and have no consideration for other’s feelings, as usual.”

Newt started back coughing, Sonya silently watching as Thomas realised he fucked up. Saying that she didn’t enjoy it would be a lie. The last part hurt more than Thomas excepted, maybe because it was coming from Newt. He wasn’t wrong per se, Newt never was about Thomas. But it didn’t stop him from feeling bitter as if he couldn’t very well just tell him what he thought of it, as if it was an unfair fight, not with Sonya and the other here. It wasn’t even a fair reproach as Thomas literally spend his life trying to save others. Just because of Gally, Thomas was an inconsiderate person? He was trying so hard to fit in, sorry if he didn’t just forgive everyone?!

Vince decided this moment to wake up and just storm out in pyjama followed by Stefan. “What happened?” he shouted glancing between everyone.

Thomas was ready to just rant about it, but Newt glared, demanding his silence. Gally stood still eyes fix on Vince. Slowly his face started to break down into fear and incomprehension. Harriet walked up to him quietly, her arm extended ready to duck. But it never happened, Gally slowly sank to his knees and as sudden as it started it just finished.

 

* * *

 

 

“He has no idea what happened,” sighed Sonya bringing with her a bucket of non-salty water and towels.

“He thought we were in the Glade,” said Newt still bending over himself, as he made to sit on his bed.

Before Thomas could ask the blond was quicker with a short and harsh, “I’m okay.”

Sure, thought Thomas. He didn’t believe on word coming out of his friend’s mouth and grabbed his arm to help him move. Newt recoiled from the touch but couldn’t really do without it.

“Did you break a stitch?” asked Sonya already bypassing Thomas, who she had been ignoring since, to push Newt’s shirt up.

“I’m fine,” hissed Newt between his clenched teeth, letting Sonya manhandle him. “Just a bruise I guess.”

Sonya nodded but it was just to get the blond to shut up. She looked carefully at each one of them, Thomas stepping back a little eyes trailing on Newt’s torso. Newt caught his eyes and Thomas felt even more out of place. They hadn’t talked after Vince arrived. He had send them to their rooms, like scold children telling them this situation would be dealt with in the morning.

“So?” asked Newt to the room, apparently trying to save them for this longing weird silence but Thomas could only shrugged having no idea what to look for, Newt’s chest was still an evolving blue and green. It was part of the healing processed had reassured Charlotte, head of the medical team. They had teams now, for almost everything. It was a great improvement for the coordination of the camps.

“You’ll live,” sighed Sonya letting the shirt fall back in place. “Or long enough for Charlotte to get a look at it in the morning. And you?” she said not even really turning to Thomas. It was just petty now. She had rolled her eyes when Thomas had followed Newt to the room. It’s not his fault if they still both slept in the same tent.

Sonya threw him the towel. “Clean up, if anything hurts see with Minho, because **I** , am going to bed.” She waved a good bye, running her hand in Newt’s hair, as if Thomas needed one more proof of her favouritism.

The moment she walked out, Newt threw himself down on his bed, hands rubbing his eyes. “I’m exhausted…”

Thomas agreed not daring to move away, not daring to move closer. Thomas just waited, if they didn’t talk now, he was not going to be able to sleep anyway.

It took a few minutes but Newt finally continued. “I’m sorry,” sighed the blond. “You’re not… inconsiderate of other people’s feelings…” The way Newt repeated those words just couldn’t stop from putting a smile on Thomas’s lips.

“So I’m just brash and hotheaded?” he asked sounding at least a bit bitter.

“And reckless,” smiled Newt not really picking up on it.

"It wasn't my fault."

"Sure."

It might have sound light hearted to anyone listening but Thomas couldn’t quite swallow it. “You’re not so much better.”

“Oh?” said Newt, sitting back up understanding where Thomas was going. “Speak your mind then.”

“You’re stuck in the past, and you act like no one knows,” said Thomas softly.

“You’re the same,” taunted Newt.

“You just stand on the side like nothing can touch you,” continued Thomas not interest in his answers.

Newt just shrugged pulling on the threads of his blanket as he sat up straight.

“You’re pushing everyone away, Minho, Brenda, you barely talk to Gally or to me!” hissed Thomas coming up closer to Newt. “You’re filled with hatred and pain every time WCKD or the Glade or even Teresa is mentioned.”

“Really?” laughed Newt sourly. “So how should I feel about WKCD? Care to tell me?”

“It’s like you don’t want to let go, like you can’t be here with us,” continued Thomas.

“Maybe it’s because I’m not supposed to be here,” growled Newt pushing the covers away. “Like Gally is not supposed to be here?”

“I didn’t mean that.” Thomas wished Newt did not look at his hands.

“You did.” Newt turned to Thomas daring him to take another step closer to that subject. “I might not open up to everyone I see but at least I don’t blame it all on Gally.”

“No, you just don’t blame anyone!” hissed Thomas hands dying to reach out to the blond and take away his still and calm facade. “You stand there silently! And that’s so scary!”

“What?” asked Newt, too confused to stick to his defensive retorts about Thomas’s accusations.

“I don’t know what you want,” continued Thomas, now talking about more than just Newt’s inability to talk about the past. “I can’t make you want to stay here. Minho is so worried, Brenda too! It feels like you’ll never get out of your head. He thinks-”

“I know,” cuts Newt adverting his eyes. “I know, he thinks I’ll try again.”

“Are you?” asked Thomas because he couldn’t wait to just found out on day he was too late. “You say all those nice things, about this place and you act all nice and okay about it all but it’s not true. I know it, I can feel it. It’s like you’re saying goodbye constantly… to me and…”

Newt did not move, eyes locked on his hands. “What do you want me to say?” he asked coldly.

“I don’t know!” Thomas just shrugged to find his words, as usual. He gave up sitting down next to Newt. “I’m asking just you if you’re going to stay.”

“I’m not going away, Tommy,” Newt didn’t look up nor move. His voice completely blank, almost sad. “I’m sorry you felt like that.”

Thomas had won and somehow it didn’t feel like it. “Don’t just say it,” begged Thomas, wishing he could reach out again but too scared to try. “Act like it. Be here, with us.”

“Do you want me to?” asked the blond unable to look up.

“Yes!” it was too quick, making Newt jump. “I do, everyone does.”

“I don’t care about everyone…” murmured Newt, hands mindless grabbing unto Thomas’s sleeve. Wishing he was not that pathetic, hoping that Thomas didn’t actually hear it.

Thomas didn’t answer, letting the silence weight down, realising now the quiet of the night around them. It was just before dawn, before animals would wake up, well before people would get up. He kept his eyes on Newt’s hands as they played with his sleeves. He never wanted it to end and that was stupid. Newt wasn’t doing anything special, he was just here and somehow it was more than enough for Thomas. Newt was finally opening up to him, and whatever was between felt real and calm for the first time, like they could make it work here.

“Don’t stay because of me,” said Thomas because he needed to make it clear, be sure.

“What is that suppose to mean Thomas?” hissed Newt moving his hands back. “Stay so I can just limp around the camp trying to find myself an occupation? Try to find my place in the society where nothing makes sense? When it doesn’t even feel real?”

“Okay!” cut Thomas putting his hands up before going to reach for Newt’s, tugging him to him. “Let’s make it real! Let’s find something better for you to do than pile up boxes.”

“Then what?” said Newt voice too fragile to carry any anger. “What are we doing here? If it’s not boxes, what it will be? Cutting up vegetables? What’s the point. I should be dead, or a crank like the rest of the population, like Alby…”

“It’s the same reasons than at the beginning,” smiled Thomas. “It’s the same… you idiot.”

Newt didn’t look up not interest into seeing the way Thomas’s hopeful eyes stared at him.

“It’s for friendships! It’s bullying Minho and teasing Brenda, getting bullied by Sonya,” continued Thomas a smile in his voice. “Family? All of things that matters!” Newt shrugged waiting for Thomas to continued. “Us?”

Newt finally looked at Thomas, breathing in. “Us?” repeated Newt eloquently frowning a little. Playing dumb didn’t make much sense but Newt’s heart was racing so fast it apparently killed most of his braincells.

“I mean, this,” repeated Thomas waving between them two, turning redder and redder at every second passing. “Whatever this is.”

“And what is this?” pushed Newt, and Thomas felt more embarrassed. It was going so well and now Thomas was panicking. Why was he so scared to act when it involved Newt? He was going to backtrack, this was a bad idea, it was not the place not the time. They were talking about Newt, he had finally started talking about how he felt here, it was not the time to risk everything.

“Well… I don’t know.. We’re friends and… a-bit-more?” tried Thomas cringing at the sound of his voice. “We’re best… friends, I guess?”

“ _Best friends_?” Newt smiled with a bit of difficulties for trying to rule his expression. “You kissed me.”

“I’m brash and reckless remember?” answered Thomas like an apology. He could see Newt’s expression closing off again at the words remembering what he said seconds before Gally exploded in their faces, if Thomas wanted to forget about it.

“Not that I wouldn’t want to do it again. It was great. Like the _best_.” Thomas was awful at this. “It’s not like I had lots of experience. But I mean from what I’ve got. We could definitely try again if you’re okay, otherwise I wouldn’t ask but if, I mean I care about you like…”

“Thomas,” Sighed Newt his free hand just going up to pass over his face trying to quiet his smile. “Just stop…”

Thomas chuckled relief to be stop from this disaster. “Sorry…” Thomas felt like digging a hole. “I’m sorry. Can we not do that now?”

“It’s okay,” said Newt softly, but didn’t want to look up. “It’s fine, we don’t have to so this now. I didn’t mean to trap you into that discussion.”

Thomas nodded along, passing his hands in his hair before remembering about the pain in his knuckles, wincing a bit. He stretched his fingers out trying to lessen the fire in his bones. Newt was just too happy for the change of subject grabbing some of the towel from Sonya pressing it down on Thomas’s hands.

“I just don’t know what this is…” answered simply Thomas. “I just know I want to be here with you.”

Newt decided than he shall never look up again, cheeks redding. The blond barely nodded, trying to quiet down his shy “Me too,” not even sure if he should praying Thomas would hear it or not. Thomas didn’t answer so Newt just decided to just stop, stop trying to hold it back, to just hold everything in. “I’m just not sure how to do that.”

Still sponging Thomas’s hands, he did not see the smile on the other’s face, just felt the hands clenching a bit.

“We’ll find a way,” promised Thomas.

It must have been the first time since they got here Newt actually breathed in properly. Thomas fixed his face, trying to make him look up. He leaned in closer when the blond refused but he knew he won’t when Newt couldn’t hold back his smile.

“Okay, cool,” murmured Newt.

Thomas snorted and repeated Newt with a smug smile. “Yeah. _Okay Cool_.”

Newt laughed pushing Thomas away, finished with the towel.

“As your **best friend** ,” there was definitely some sarcasm in it and Thomas looked up just in time to see the smirk on the blond’s face. “I need to tell that, you need to talk with Gally.”

“I know,” sighed Thomas as Newt moved to lay down next to his _best friend_. God Thomas was feeling like an idiot, why didn’t he just say it? Say that he didn’t want to just be best friends?

“So do it,” snapped Newt but there was no heat. Not anymore. “He was scared. We were all scared.”

“Doesn’t mean what he did was right.” Thomas laid down too, not feeling like working against gravity anymore. His head almost touching Newt’s.

“Are you really going to judge all of him for that?” sighed Newt, his hand moving unto Thomas’s left hand. That’s when Thomas realised he was holding the neckless. “You don’t know what it was like being in the Glade for that long…” he confessed, not trying to blame Thomas but to make him understand. “And we both know he was stung, you do believe him right?”

“Chuck didn’t deserve it,” cut Thomas grabbing Newt’s hand blocking it between his skin and the wooden piece.

“I know.” He answered his head turning to face his friend. “Gally neither, you neither.”

Thomas didn’t know what to say, eyes fixed on the ceiling. He could feel Newt’s eyes stuck on his face waiting for Thomas to say it, to say he understood. But he didn’t, he couldn’t so instead he just let Newt’s hand go.

“I’ll talk to him,” promised Thomas nevertheless.

“Cool.”

“In exchange…” smiled Thomas.

“What?”

“Talk with Minho?”

“Did he say something?” worried Newt turning back to Thomas blond hair brushing against the other face.

“I wished he had,” scoffed Thomas, trying to push the blond strands away, it was getting way too long.

“Okay.” Newt turned around again staring at the ceiling. “You’re right.”

Silence weighted down and none of them moved, breathing starting to slow down. Thomas didn’t feel like moving, this felt way too comfortable to move.

“Can I stay?” asked Thomas. Newt nodded, his hair once more brushing against Thomas’s face as the only indication he answered.

 

* * *

 

 

None of them knew who woke up first. Thomas remembered moving his face away from the blond strands eyes blinking and opening at Newt’s own dark sleepy eyes.  
They exchanged lazy smiles but neither find the strength to move and stay still. Thomas was laying back with Newt’s body tug against him. He couldn’t look away, sunlight diffracted on the blond’s face and across the room through the tent’s clothes. Thomas’ hand somehow had found a way his best friend’s waist during the night, he didn’t notice until he started tracing, drawing circles the shirt. He could feel his hipbone just under the layers of flesh and clothes as it was slowly rubbing against his skin. His hand curved so nicely around Newt and Thomas didn’t find the strength to stop.  
The blond turn his head, hair brushing Thomas face, searching through the other’s eyes for an explanation. Newt tried to say something, but find himself stuck on the words. Luckily because Thomas didn’t have answers that made sense. He just wanted to continue, feeling muscles tensing, relaxing and melting under his hand. Newt didn’t say a word nor did he look away when his own hand grasped Thomas’s sleeve, somehow testing out Thomas’s reaction.  
Thomas froze a second thinking it was to push him off but nothing of that sort happened, the hand laid still, fingers rumpling his shirt. Eyes still locked into Newt’s, Thomas carefully let his hand slip under his t-shirt continuing the tracing directly against his skin. Newt’s breath hitched, mouth drying up, body moving against Thomas’s hand. Newt let his fingers run up Thomas’s arm to caress his cheek, fingers shaking slightly as they trailed to his lips.  
Whatever this was Thomas wanted more and he knew Newt felt the same. As if reading his mind, Newt moved closer, nose touching. Why was he so breathless when they barely moved? Newt smelled like himself again, cool under his touch and Thomas was almost dizzy. He wanted more, too feel more of that skin under his hands. Thomas hand jerked closing on Newt’s hip bringing him closer without second thoughts. Clothes ruffled against each other, and Thomas didn’t know what to focus on, Newt’s hips pushing against his, his lips so close, his skin under Thomas’ hand. Thomas was not going to waste another second, pushing on his elbows to kiss the blond, to press him against the mattress, pushing the shirt out of the way. Thomas just couldn’t just stand here and look and imagine how it felt, how it sounded to have Newt closer and-

“Thomas! Vince needs to see you! Get up!“ Minho bragged in.

Thomas more mobil, shot up turning to his friend. “Minho!” he scolded breathless and unnecessarily angry.

“Sorry!” Giggled Minho turning around in a heartbeat. “Is it what I think?! Is it actually happening?!”

“Nothing was happening,” hurried Thomas trying to sit up away from the other. “Nothing is.”

“We’re dressed Minho, calm down,” growled Newt making his way up slowly.

“So what happened?” teased Minho slowly turning around. “Newt’s bed doesn’t work anymore?”

“Ah. Ah,” faked Thomas, trying to sit up. “Must be the same problem than Brenda’s.”

Minho gave out a fake laugh at that, mentioning the door and the outside world. “Vince needs you, now.”

Thomas whined rolling on his back. “Why?”

Minho shrugged watching his friend slowly make his way out. Both Thomas and Newt tried looking away as the younger crossed the room to grab some clean clothes. It was so awkward Minho felt almost bad for barging in. He was going to let them be but he did not trust them enough. As Thomas made his way to the door, he glanced back to the bed, eyes never meeting the blond. “I guess… I’m sorry for…” he tried. “I’ll see to you later?”

Newt winced falling back in bed, “Just go.”

Thomas didn’t need more to run away. Minho was going to follow when Newt called him back.

“Could we talk?” asked the blond pushing the sheet against himself suddenly missing the warmth. “At breakfast? Whenever you’ve got time, really…”

“Yeah?”

“I need to apologise to you,” tried Newt looking above the blankets. “I just don’t know where to start.”

“I mean I can definitely find one or two thing we need to talk about now,” said Minho with a smile that Newt just couldn’t resist to answer. “What was that?” giggled Minho.

“Just,” sighed Newt. “Just let me change.”

 

* * *

 

 

Vince wasn’t very happy. To the least really. Thomas got out of his tent, head resonating with the shouts and scolding of the leader. Jorge had been there too. Everyone seemed against him. As he stepped out from the suffocating room, Thomas’s eyes just took a second to take in the beautiful surroundings. The sun was high up now. He was prepared to be told off and forced into apologising to Gally, but Vince thought it would be better to call a meeting and decide on it as a community. Somehow this was not such a worry weighting down on his mind as much as this morning madness. His thoughts were still on a certain blond, and how it felt to have him so close, the skin under his hand. Fate seems to have a hand at it because Newt just walked past him.

The blond stopped looking at Thomas in silence, trying to find words.

“I talked with Minho,” said Newt.

“Cool,” tired Thomas wondering why the furtive eyes. “How did it go?”

“Fine!” said Newt almost off hand. “But I think we should talk,” finally said Newt, eyes on the floor.

“Yeah sure… No problem,” smiled Thomas.

“Tomorrow?” asked Newt, mentioning Charlotte and Sonya at the over hand of the courtyard, apparently waiting on him.

“Sure.” Thomas nodded, “Cool.” He didn’t know where to look but tried to stay cool as Newt just waved goodbye like it was the easiest thing ever.

 

2 Minutes later:

 

“Where were you!!” hissed Thomas rushing in breathless. “I’ve been looking for you for ages!”

Minho looked up from his work unimpressed, “I was here?”

Thomas stomped inside the building in mid-construction.

“Are you okay?” asked Minho handling a wooden board around like it weight nothing.

“If I’m okay?!” hissed Thomas. “He wants to talk!!!”

“Newt?” ventured Minho putting the thing down, realising it was going to take some time.

“Yes!! Obviously!!”

“How dares he,” mocked Minho. “That’s it then… You’re finished. It’s obviously out of your reach. I mean, we all know you can’t talk.”

“What?” chocked Thomas.

“I mean talk? Damn why can’t he just kiss you and be gone?” teased Minho sitting down on some wood stock.

“Minho,” scolded Thomas. “That’s not funny.”

But Minho continued not interest in listening to Thomas’s begs. “Talking…. Who does he think he is? Who does that anymore?!”

“Stop it.”

“If Brenda did that to me I would leave her right away.”

“Minho.”

Minho finally turned around to face his friend, stopping in his rant. “Thomas.”

Their standoff glare did not last long, Thomas eyes looking away first. “Okay, okay,” gave up Thomas. “You win, I’m calmed down.”

“Good,” smiled Minho, decided to join Thomas on the bench. “What does he want to talk about anyway?”

“I don’t know!” whined Thomas hands moving in his hair. “Did he tell you?”

“No, we barely talked about you,” answered Minho, but it could be a lie. Thomas couldn’t trust anyone anymore!

“What did you do?” scold Minho.

“Me?! Nothing! Everything was fine! We are just going around! We were just been okay! He was laughing all the time! I mean, he is alive and so I am! And so are you!” rambled Thomas, throwing out ideas as fast as they came. “We were doing stuff as usual, like everything was back to normal and then he just… I fucked up… Maybe I just fucked up?” he suddenly said thinking back to this morning. “I thought it was okay. But now he wants to talk!?”

“Maybe he just want to switch side?” teased Minho.

“What?” stopped Thomas mid-rant.

“For the bed,” explained Minho as Thomas turned red tumbling across his own words. “Come on everyone knows you’re sleeping together.”

“It’s cold.”

“I know, I say that to Brenda too.” Answered his friend with a knowing smile.

“It is because of this,” growled Thomas. “This life here, nothing makes sense.”

“We get to finally do and be what we want,” said Minho. “Does that upset you that much?”

“I guess I’m not use of having a choice,” said Thomas quietly. “I’m too scared of making a mistake. What if I do something wrong?” whined Thomas as Minho just stare silently thrown off.

“Did something happen?”

“No!”

“You’re killing me, Thomas…” sighed Minho. “You kissed him, right?”

“I did no such things.”

“You kissed him and you haven’t decided how you feel about him yet?” continued Minho. “Like I told you to on one of the first night?”

“I know how I feel about him!” hissed Thomas. “That’s not the point.”

“So you kissed him and brush it off as an non-out of the ordinary thing because you were scared of losing him.”

“No!” said Thomas. “I wouldn’t do that!”

“Almost everybody saw you kissing on the beach.”

Thomas opened his mouth ready to answer but he couldn’t find anything to say, torn between wanting to deny everything and just bragging about how awesome it was. Silence felt on the boys and Minho just waited staring right at Thomas who didn’t know what to do with himself.

“That might have happened,” said Thomas dejectedly.

“I’m going to make so much on this one,” said Minho mostly for himself before turning around and shouting: “Brenda!! Come here!!”

“I hate you. So much.”

“He probably wants to talk about that to be honest then. Maybe he just want, you know, do that more often.”

“Did he tell you?!”

“No.” Minho looked at anywhere but at Thomas. “We just started talking again today. It wasn’t much about you to be honest. I think he is trying to sort out his life.”

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah?” asked Brenda head looking in. “What’s up? Wait- Are you okay?”

Thomas shrugged.

Minho started laughing, “You owe me so much you might actually want to sit down to hear that.”

Brenda chuckled taking a sit, “Wait. It’s about Newt. You kissed him and now you are freaking out, out-loud because Newt, who meanwhile has been freaking out quietly, decided to act like an adult and tries to resolve the situation.”

“How can she even lose to you?” whispered Thomas stun to a dreamy Minho.

“You couldn’t be more right if you tried,” smiled Minho.

“Okay,” sighed Thomas. “What do I do then?!”

“Listen to him?” proposed Brenda with a smirk. “Shouldn’t be that hard considering how you guys function anyway.”

“What do I tell him?” whined Thomas.

“That’s up to you,” she chided.

“What if he doesn’t want anything to do with me?” asked Thomas. “I can’t, I’m not sure what would I do, you know if- He is like,”

“Thomas,” cut Brenda. “It’s not with us you want to have that conversation.”

Minho nodded along happy to have Brenda come and rescue them.

“After all of this mess, nothing that bad can happen between you guys. I mean… You have that super power to make everything turn out okay in the end.”

Brenda smile reminded Thomas of a time so far away. A time when him and her could have work out.

“I just don’t want anything to change. Maybe this is the only ending we are getting.”

It was Minho’s time to get upset. “You! Stop that! Thomas, you’re an idiot, young brainless self-sacrificing, nosy and cheeky runner. In no case scenario, you are a coward. So pick yourself up-“

“And finish what I’ve started, I know… I know…” cut Thomas.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the day flew by, Thomas was called to the council. The room started to fill, people whispering and Gally came to sit at the front but as far away from Thomas as possible. Gally didn’t say anything keeping his eyes on the floor.  
And like an idiot, all Thomas could wonder about was if Newt was going to come. Brenda had come fetch him earlier thinking Thomas would be stressed. Stressed no but his shower did not help him come back down from this morning near-miss and working with Minho on construction could take his mind of his future talk with the blond. Thomas frowned, suddenly realising, what did he mean by tomorrow? He would have almost missed Vince sentencing if Brenda had not squealed.

“The pit?” repeated Brenda appalled. “That’s barbaric!”

Vince merely shrugged. “It’s not like there is a better solution.”

“I think there is,” called out Newt from somewhere next to Gally. Thomas looked up and smiled, he hadn’t seen him arrived and was mildly annoyed how casual, all-business Newt looked. The only thing keeping Thomas quiet was how the blond didn’t quite looked at him. It was almost endearing.

“It was obviously an accident, well, on Gally’s part,” he continued.

Thomas choked glancing back at Brenda, while Newt tried to step forward without hurting anyone sitting down. He came to stand next to Vince.

“Putting Gally in the pit for such thing is counter-productive,” continued Newt, as people stared curiously at him. “I think he should take the morning off, talk with the medical team.” People started to complain murmuring too loudly. “Gally should be babysit, everyday until Brenda sees him fit to stop. He doesn’t need punishment, he needs help.”

Vince nodded slowly along watching people whispered around the room. Newt did not back down even walking down the steps ready to defend his argument. Minho didn’t say a word too scared to break Newt’s newly found voice watching his friend careful walk up to Gally.

“As such, Gally can continue his work in the afternoon, and we can be sure that whatever that was, doesn’t happen again,” he concluded simply, like it was the easiest answer.

“What about Thomas?” shouted someone in the crowd.

Newt glanced at Vince royally ignoring Thomas. “I think he should spend the morning in the pit.”

Thomas choked, “What?! Didn’t you say it was barbaric?!”

Vince shushed him.

“Brenda said that,” said the blond with a smirk. “But I think Thomas over-reacted and it can’t happen again. I also think Thomas should be assigned under Gally’s tutelage for the week.”

People cheered at the idea of another fight and someone to be thrown in the pit. It seemed like everybody was happy with it. Thomas just couldn’t believe it.

“We need to work together,” said Newt finally, turning to Vince. “I think this would be the best solution for them and our community. We can not ignore other people’s pain but we can not let violence slide by.”

Vince nodded slowly, asking for anyone else opinion and asking for a quick show of hand. Everybody was happy with the sentencing wondering if they should give him food. This was slightly too much and even Minho felt uncomfortable. Vince ended up by putting his veto down, with a clear and simple, “we are not going to starve anyone.”  
The voting was a quick affair. Thomas didn’t need to look to know Newt won, so he kept his eyes on him until the blond dared to look back. Newt smiled somewhat apologetically, somewhat amused. Thomas was tore in two between being enraged and amazed. The smirk on the blond face made it even less clear for Thomas.

 

* * *

 

 

Night already started to fall when the meeting finished and it was time to get to the pit and Sonya happily proposed to bring Thomas there herself. Minho shrugged, telling Thomas that it was only one night. Newt did approached him Vince keeping him to talk about some things or others. It was frustrating to say the least.  
Sonya did wait for him to whine and just told him to follow. They slowly made their way to the outside of the camp. At least it wasn’t going to be as bad as his first night in the Glade.

“I know what you are up to, Thomas,” whispered Sonya, dragging Thomas toward the hole when he started to slow down. “And I’m not going to stand here and say nothing.”

“What?”

“He is exhausted, wounded, and confused,” she listed off pushing Thomas toward the pit. “I swear, if you hurt him…”

“Is this about Newt?” asked Thomas trying to hold back the stunned ‘Are you actually threatening me?’

“Don’t play dumb,” growled Sonya. “I’ll drown you, right there on the beach in front of everyone. I don’t even care if I get banned,” she continued lowering her voice enough not to draw attention from the others.

Okay, that was definitely a threat. Thomas tried hands moving up in surrender. “I would never hurt Newt! What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” she hissed. “I’ve seen how he looks at you, how he hangs at every words you say-”

“Does he?” gusted Thomas, brain cutting short at the mention.

“He deserves better than awkward hugs and staring. Newt deserves to be happy and not wondering if he actually matters or is just a Teresa rebound,” she lectured him steeping back. “You need to man up, and do something. Prove him he matters. I know he wants to talk with you tomorrow. So give me a reason not to bash your head in the next 24 hours.”

“I’m not, I don’t, it’s not about Teresa,” tired to say Thomas. “It’s not that easy.”

“I can make it easy.”

“Sonya… No,” winced Thomas. “I just don’t want to hurt him, hurt us… Do you really think he likes me?”

“Oh, no… Tommy,” she chided as she opened the pit. Thomas cut her off with a brief ‘don’t call me that’ as she continued; “I’m not helping you get with my brother. I’m not on your team. I’m making sure you know what to expect if you fuck up.”

“I promise you, I’ll never do anything to hurt him.”

“So you’ve said,” she drawled holding the door open. “But you did stab him once. Now get in.”

Thomas obeyed but continued to defend himself, “This was different, and he- “

“I don’t care. If you love him tell him or leave him alone,” she hissed closing the door. “Have a good night.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thank you for all the Kudos!! I've been having so much doubts about this chapter... Hope you still enjoyed it and it's not too convoluted, or repetitive... Anyway, I'd love to hear what you think about it!


	5. Next to Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!  
> So, this chapter has been quite a handful. I hope it's okay, been working on it for a while and decided to put some desperate making out, it won't be anything too graphic. It's not smut, we think (?) but oh well... we just wanted to give you heads up! Also panic attack near the beginning.  
> Anyhow, hope you enjoy this chapter!

 

“Remembrance,” announced Brenda, bashing her hands just centimetres away from Newt’s plate.

Newt looked up slowly hoping the announcement was not directed to him but to the table in general. Nobody said anything and looking up had apparently given Brenda the authorisation to sit down and await an constructive answer.

“Remembrance?” Newt repeated carefully, glancing around them a last time to make sure she was talking to him. They hadn’t talk much since, well Newt’s melt down, and he wasn’t sure how to react. This was a recurrent case for many people in Newt’s life nowadays, mainly why he sat mostly alone for diner. He wasn’t ready to face Vince again after being showered in not reciprocate admiration for standing up during Thomas and Gally’s trial. So Newt had sat next to Stefan and his friends since Sonya had left him to accompanied Thomas to the hole he had sent him and excuse him if Newt didn’t want to wait around to witness that. He was certain he going to master avoidance by the end of the day.

“Minho and I talked,” continued Brenda realising she wasn’t getting more out of Newt. The blond winced at the mention of Minho and talking. Maybe he should have revised a bit more his avoidance mechanism, obviously wishing he could just master the art of disappearing right away. “We talked about moving on.” She announced.

Newt stared a moment.

“From?” he grumbled stupidly. Moving on from ‘Newt shutting out his friends like Thomas had so plainly explained’? From ‘him throwing his friend in the pit’? From ‘refusing to acknowledge how Thomas is the best thing that ever happened to him’? From ‘confessing and finally making it easy on both of them and stop being scared of what could happen’? Moving from being scared of what they should do? Of what they could be? It seemed that denial and standing paralysed in the status quo was the new default setting for Newt on this island.

So many things they needed to move on from and Brenda was just staring as if the answer was evident.

“From the War!” she exclaimed.

Newt choke on air, putting his spoon back down. “What?” he shrieked, eyes wide. “Which War?”

“Against WCKD!” she articulated and everyone’s attention turned to them. Newt wanted to recoil but standing up and walking away would be seen as running away and people were watching now. So he just stayed still wishing Thomas could be next to him.

“The Last City!” she continued. “The Trials! The Maze! All of it. We need to name it, put words on what happened.” Nobody dared to bring it up, to say the words and Newt hated them in Brenda’s voice not because she brought back awful memories to almost everyone here but because she did not know.

Newt could have glanced at Thomas about right now. Hanging on the minutes Thomas would have allowed him to find a solution. But Thomas wasn’t here and it was all of Newt’s fault. Missing his strength was terribly bitter and left Newt thinking how weak he was alone. Thomas would find something to say, it didn’t mean he was going to be right, understanding or calm. Thomas just could react, Newt just sat there, frozen.  
What if it never changed? What if Newt could never reach out to his friends again? Or what if Newt decided to listening to his body and never get up tomorrow? That paralysis was drowning his bones in distilled water and formol. What if he couldn’t wake up? What if Thomas couldn’t do with it? What if it weighted down Thomas’s life? He wasn’t what Thomas needed. Maybe he should just stand back.

“We need to understand what happened,” she continued without noticing Newt’s existential crisis. “We need to write it down, we need to declare its end, we need to forgive.”

“And I need a new bedroom,” sighed Newt mostly for himself not able to imagine Thomas sleeping next to him every day now that he knew deep in his bones he wouldn’t be enough.

“What?” Brenda stopped a second looking at him.

“Nothing,” he brushed aside trying to push everything back down inside to a more confined space. “Isn’t the rock enough?” he said and pointed at the massive rock scribbled in names dying to just have Thomas back, or just looking back so he could just stop all those stupid thoughts in Newt’s mind. But he was too far, maybe Newt could just move back to shore, talk to Thomas about how it feels to be thrown in the pit by his friend. He just wanted to tell him everything, because Thomas always find a way.

“I don’t think so,” Brenda started again eyes locked on the rock. “It’s a graveyard, it’s not enough. We barely know who are those persons behind those craved names, it’s not enough.”

Newt was starting to feel the headache coming, his hands feeling numb, heartbeat stressed out. Without even trying Newt could read Teresa’s name from where he was sitting.

“Is it about her?” he hissed leaning toward his friend. “About what I said? I am not forgiving her and I don’t want to talk about it again.”

“Maybe a bit,” she pondered not reacting to the harsh tone. “Not really you in particular. It’s about everyone. We all have different memories and understanding of what happened, I think we need to share them.”

“Sure, cool,” He smiled bright fully, delighted to have been made aware of something he was not getting close by at least 3 or 4 meters, wearing gloves, and holding a gun.

Brenda nodded happily waiting for more.

“Just, why are you telling me that? Isn’t it Vince job to handle… group therapy?”

The brunette leaned closer, hands creeping closer to Newt’s in a reassuring and motherly way. “So that’s not public knowledge yet,” smiled Brenda lowering her voice. “But Vince is stepping down.”

“What?!” Newt hissed hands retracting to under the table, his heart deciding to increase the speed, apparently just in case he needed to run away, run a marathon or explode, who knows anymore?

“We’re going to hold election!!” she continued squealing disproportionally trying and failing to keep her voice down. Luckily Stefan had moved away, already finished with his food. Newt didn’t even see him leave. “Sonya is upside down… stressed out. It’s going be amazing, it’s like our new beginning. Sonya is totally freaking out. I think that’s why she did lashed out at Thomas earlier…”

“What?!” This was not happening.

“I know!” she continued on that high-pitch tone. “You need to present! After today it’s inevitable. I mean even Gally would vote for you, you sent your boyfriend to the pit. How many people would be ready to do that for the greater good?”

“Stop!” shouted Newt arms moving away and knocking over his bowl. “Please stop talking.”

Brenda froze, eyes wide open, watching Newt take quicker and shorter breath. He tried to clean the mess he’d made hurriedly.

“I don’t even know where to start,” hissed Newt pushing the bowl away. “It was not for the greater good I send Thomas to the pit not because it was a fair decision, but the best thing to do. And Sonya lashed out at Thomas, what about? And my boyfriend?!”

“Come on its old story,” sighed Brenda trying to tease him a little. She obviously spent too much time with Minho. “Everyone saw you kissing on the beach, going to bed together, you’re always stuck together… Even Sonya.”

“Everyone knows? Sonya knows?” He choked standing up too quickly for his ribs to appreciate. He winced but didn’t sit back down. “It’s not that. It’s not, what you think. Why would Sonya, lash out on, Thomas?”

“Are you okay?” frowned Brenda standing up as well not sure yet if it was to catch him or hold him back.

“I can’t breath,” was the last coherent words New choked out.

Brenda tried to help him sit, suddenly very aware how alone they were at the moment. She looked around wondering if she should go get some help or stay with him. She pushed him down, head low and tried to remind him to breath.  
Luckily it didn’t take long for someone to notice. Minho rushed in, hushing Brenda away. Newt didn’t move from his spot.

“It’s okay, It’s okay.” Repeated Minho, hand going straight behind Newt’s neck. “I’m here. It’s okay.”

Brenda stepped back staring at her boyfriend in wonder.

“Darling, can you get us some water?” said Minho way too calmly for not having dealt with it before.

“Sure…”

“And that blanket?” pointed Minho.

Brenda nodded grabbing the few things, sitting down next to them. Warping Newt in the blanket wasn’t hard and the breathing started to slow down leaving place to tears.

“Sorry,” Newt mumbled.

“It’s okay,” reassured Minho, hand brushing the blond’s strands.

Newt nodded, trying to wipe away some of the tears. Minho stepped back glancing at Brenda with a bit of relief. “Hasn’t happen in a while,” sighed Minho.

“Surprising, isn’t it?” tried to joke Newt. It was a bit dissonant but they let him get away with it. “After all we’ve been through it’s a wonder it wasn’t happen more.”

Minho looked back concerned and unsure what to say.

“Not complaining though,” smiled Newt again, sitting up a little bit more straight.

“Me neither,” agreed Minho walking on that thin ice Newt was dragging them slowly. He wasn’t going to stop him, after all getting Newt to open up was too precious for Minho to ignore. “When was the last time?” he asked letting the question mark fade in, not really looking for an answer.

Newt gave a short laugh at that. Bitter and exhausted. “When Alby was stung,” he answered, fingers grasping at the cloth.

Minho didn’t move remembering the day they came back from the maze with Thomas. It seemed ages ago now, almost unreal but somehow he could remember clear the feeling in his chest as they walked back in the Glade. They were jubilating; Thomas killing one of them! They got Alby back! They survived a full night! Gally had brought the mood down by threatening Thomas to the pit and Alby was still bedridden but nothing could have brought Minho’s moral down at the time. They were joking around until late at night when Newt found himself unable to breath again. It wasn’t new, since he arrived in the maze it was a recurring thing but Minho and Alby were always there to help. Alby had put this all system in place for Newt; Blanket, water, counting slowly backward. Sometimes it was just enough for Alby to sit down with him and wrapping blond’s shoulders in his jacket for Newt to start breathing again.

“I miss Alby…” said Newt lamely.

“I know,” reassured Minho. “Me too, mate.”

Brenda didn’t say a word, listening carefully from her spot.

“He should be here.” Continued Newt ruefully.

“He would have loved that,” smiled Minho, patting Newt’s shoulder. Newt breathed out slowly, suddenly feeling like all those things didn’t really matter, weren’t worth getting upset over. If he could help with the community he should present himself? After all they’ve been through they should have had enough of fighting now.

“I’ll ran,” said Newt.

“What?” finally voiced Brenda.

“I’ll present myself, you were right,” explained the blond. “If they think I can do something good for them, then, I’ll do it. I’ll try.”

Brenda smiled but got taken short by Minho urging Newt promise that he will make law they should burn something up every month, like in the Glade. Brenda started rolling her eyes when she saw Newt’s face light up and excitedly agree.

“You’re exhausting me…” she sighed. A murmur being completely lost on the boys.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It was a long night. Worst than in the Glade. You could feel that no one had spend a night in there yet. It was most lonely and Thomas couldn’t think about what he’d done, only about what he wanted to do now. He wanted to clear the air with Gally, tell him exactly what he thought and getting Gally’s apology. It wouldn’t change a thing but it was what was right. Newt was right, as usual, they need to work together and understand each others. It’s not because they were on the island they didn’t need to make any more efforts. They must stop fighting what felt right and carry on.  
He knew Chuck wasn’t coming with some food and a story about his parents. He knew Gally was probably in a terrible mood with Brenda and the rest of the medical team pestering him. They were his family and they had to listen to each others. He didn’t even have to think that hard to imagine Newt was guilty tripping himself for sending Thomas in the pit. For sure he was feeling to out of place and handling terribly that new bound of popularity.  
Sonya’s words lay heavily in his mind. She was right, he should stop now. Or continue, whatever that means. He kept on telling Newt to be here with them but Thomas was just the same. He couldn’t made a choice about the only person that actually mattered here.  
Telling him it was okay, and that he too needs to move on, but Thomas was not able to do it himself and he was done with it.  
He wanted to get out and do something about it.

How could he sleep, knowing Newt was alone?

How could he have not understand it before? He should have talk to Newt earlier, the blond obliviously liked him so what was Thomas waiting for.

How could he let it happen, maybe he was as crazy as Gally? As scared as him?

It didn’t matter at that point, Thomas wanted out, he wanted to resolved everything now, make amends and be close to his friends, his family. He wanted to stop holding back, because it wasn’t him, it wasn’t who he was, it wasn’t right. His knuckles ached from the fight, it all but reminded him of who he was. WCKD might have changed many things in his life but he was not going to let them win that last thing. After all they took it was going to end now. After they took his family, his friends, Teresa. Now was the last of it. If he needed Sonya to hit him over the head to get it, then so be it. She had been right.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Hours and minutes started to blur as Thomas waited for the morning first lights. Finally after dozing back and forth between self-pitying and horrible dreams, he heard footsteps approaching and sat up.

“Hey,” said quietly the blond, sitting down next to the fence.

“Morning,” smiled back Thomas. “Not asleep yet?”

Newt smiled at the tease. “Just woke up actually,” he said but Thomas could see on his face that he clearly didn’t get much rest.

Not sure how to start the conversation. Newt had been turning in his bed when he decided that sending Thomas to the pit was not only a bad idea, but it was barbaric and was a undeserved punishment for both of them. It had started to rain and woke up Newt in a jump. By then, Newt just doesn’t care anymore. He got up to see Thomas with blankets and some snacks.

“I’m here with a peace offering?” Newt said.

Thomas frowned but didn’t comment to happy to see the door unlock and have his friend at arms reach. He looked awfully tired.

“I’m sorry about,” he sighed waving around them. “About the night before fight, and rushing off in the morning and throwing you there without giving you heads up.”

“Stop, it’s fine,” cut Thomas grabbing the food Newt was handing him.

“And I didn’t really mean those things at the council, I know you didn’t-“

“You don’t have to apologise for that,” chuckled Thomas. “I had it coming.” Newt nodded bitting his lips in silence trying to calm his racing heart.

“You okay?” asked Thomas.“You look tired.”

Newt shrugged, “Usual,” he answered. “And it’s like the middle of the night.”

Thomas stepped closer, getting a glimpsed of the other’s face from the lights outside. “You cried.”

Newt tried to shove him playfully. “I’m fine.”

“You need to stop lying and apologising,” said Thomas quietly, hands grabbing the blond’s wrists. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” tired Newt. “I’m just tired.”

“Go back to bed.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” said Newt looking away. Was he going to say, I was thinking of you in that horrible cage and all I wanted was to be next to you. Instead he settled with something like that because he was just so tired of lying and trying too hard to run away from it. “I felt terrible.”

Thomas stood silent, wishing he could stop hesitating and hug him. But caution and curiosity won over, “Why?”

“I wanted to be next to you,” sighed Newt. “I’m really tired. I’m tired of pushing you away.”

“It’s okay,” reassured Thomas. “Me too. We need to do something about it.”

Newt shrugged, “Kiss me again?” It wasn’t an order, more like a request.

Thomas nodded stupidly, not moving at all. Newt was going to stepped back, regrets appearing on his face and an other apologise on his tongue.

It was now or never, so Thomas stopped hesitating and stepped in. His hand grabbed Newt’s arms tugging him closer and actually kissed him. It was quite simple and tentative, Thomas, as usual, had not idea of what he was doing. It wasn’t much really, but when Newt smiled against his lips, and this clearly was the best thing, ever, happening to Thomas.  
It was bit awkward with Thomas trying to move closer but his hands still unsure were to fall. Thomas was never close enough and it was excruciating not knowing what to do to remediate to it. But finally, Thomas sighed into the kiss feeling Newt’s arm curving around his neck, shivering at the contact and melting against him.  
Clearly not exaggerating now, as his brain froze when Newt’s hands slides to his hair.  
He ran his hands around the blond’s waist making Newt move back to breath out in surprise as Thomas pressed their bodies closer. His hands started playing with Thomas’s hair. Noses got in the way but Newt soon found a way angling his head on the side. He was always the clever one.

Someone whistled in the background and Newt jumped from the sudden noise. Thomas knew it must be Frypan who usual started out in the kitchen at dawn. Newt kept his face hidden in Thomas’s shoulder, where he knew Thomas and the intruder wouldn’t be able to see the terrible blush on his face. Thomas let it happen, happy to feel the blond strands on his face and cuddling Newt in his arms.

It was in fact Frypan, as he walked passed the pit, he winked at them. “I’ll start on your breakfast!” he shouted. Thomas could feel Newt smile against his damp t-shirt.  
Frypan out of view Thomas was going to let when Newt hold him closer, slowly breathing in and out. Thomas decided he liked it, the comfort of having him close and didn’t try to let go again. Newt placed few butterfly kiss on his neck. It must have lasted a while because Frypan shouted their food was ready.  
They both stepped away looking for words.

“So how is it?” tried Newt clearing his voice.

Thomas rambled looking for any other words than fucking brilliant. “Great,” he said goofily. “I mean good… I-”

Newt’s frown suddenly turning into a shade of red on his cheeks. “No!” he badly held back a laugh. “I was talking about the pit. But…”

Thomas nervously laughed out. “Oh god!”

Newt could not stop himself and laughed too. “I’m happy you liked that too,” he teased.

“It’s okay, I guess…” Thomas joked fainting indifference, trying to tame the butterflies because this was just so cliché.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Newt didn’t want that morning to happen so soon. It was too early, with too little sleep and issues arising from last night that just begged for a follow up. He had shared breakfast in the pit with Thomas before going back to bed for a few hours. It had been fun and calming break from yesterday chaos. They didn’t talk about anything important, just joking around about Minho and Brenda, the next curious idea of Harriet for the camp, and the stupid gossip going around.  
Morning started even earlier than Newt thought when he had heard Brenda calling for him. He didn’t even stepped a foot near the food when he heard his name again.

“Newt’s a bad boy,” teased Frypan glancing at his friend knowing that he caught the blond’s attention. “Breaking out a criminal in the middle of the night to make out with him…”

“Technically Thomas never left the pit,” said Harriet because apparently this wasn’t the first time they talked about it. “It was barely a breakout.”

“It was conjugal visit,” snorted Minho.

“Guys please stop…” begged Gally.

“Not in front of my coffee, kids,” growled Vince, getting up to leave. “You should know that.”

Newt glared unimpressed and slightly happy to see them all enjoying morning together. He didn’t say a word sitting down listening half-heartedly to Brenda explaining what they should do next for the election.

 

* * *

 

 

All Newt could think about today was what to do about Thomas. They’ve kissed, Newt had been selfish. They had agree to try and talk about it later today but with Vince announcement and Thomas work with Gally they just did not have a second. Everyone was scared about Vince stepping out.  
Newt was discovering everyone had a pretty set opinion on him and no matter the number of people that sounded enchanted by the idea of him running all he could remember was the vicious way on girl called him a Crank. For someone else he was irresponsible and others he just wasn’t old enough.  
They all had fair points that Newt was not ready to face them adequately yet and they should have known it. It had been way to exhausting. Brenda didn’t say anything letting Newt go. This morning clarity was drowning into the doubts people kept on throwing at Newt and he just wanted to curl up in his bed and disappear for a while.

Thomas’s day didn’t go that much better and he could only wish to be back to this morning, sharing scrambled eggs with Newt hidden away in the pit listening to the sea crashing on the shore and the camp slowly awaking up. Gally had barely talked to him at first and Thomas waited for both of them falling into a quiet silence to speak up. He apologised and Gally stood still stunt to hear those words. It had taken a while but Gally answered. His own apologise was quick and meaningful. It wasn’t enough but Thomas try to let it set not pushing it. It was a small win, a small step and even though all this good resolution last night Thomas just couldn’t follow up with them all.

His skin was still burning for the afternoon day out in the sun with Gally and salty from when he jumped into the sea to cool off when Thomas saw Newt moving back to the cabin.

“Hey!” shouted Thomas catching up on his friend as he walked in. It was a small cabin but enough for the both of them. A small table was pushed against on side letting as much space for two other mattress to fit in.

Newt hummed in answer leaning on the desk.

“Can we talk?” tried Thomas and immediately regretted seeing the tiredness on his friend’s face.

“We shouldn’t do that, be together,” said Newt, eyes falling on the floor though he did not move away. “We can’t.”

Thomas did step back. “What do you mean? I thought you wanted- I don’t know… I thought it was okay, I-”

“I do want to,” hurried Newt silencing Thomas.

“What?” he frowned.

Newt didn’t answer, breathing in and out slowly hand rubbing his neck.

Thomas wasn’t going to give up now. He did on Gally but he couldn’t fail all day. “I have no idea what this is or what we are doing but it feels right to me, you too?”

“It does…” said Newt letting Thomas moved closer. “But, it’s not that simple.”

His hands stopped him, flat against Thomas’ chest reminding them of the day Newt woke up. Newt suddenly hoped he was not here, that he didn’t make it here. Maybe Thomas would be actually able to do that with someone else, do what Vince promised all of them, the fresh start and normal life, the chance to be normal with someone good.  
Thomas deserved it, and all those promises didn’t spell Newt’s name. Normal didn’t mean living paralysed in the past like Newt was. It was so just selfish of the blond to drag the other down into that bitterness, worthlessness. Newt couldn’t walk, he couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t find his place in the community.

“You deserve better,” Newt said taking his hand away. He was moving away and Thomas could only let go if he didn’t want to try. “It’s not going to work, whatever this is, we are not going to make it. We can’t. I can’t.”

“What? Why not?”

“Just stop, Thomas,” said Newt, the full name cooling down the room. “You’re still grieving her. You don’t understand what you feel. This is a terrible idea.”

They were back when the symptoms started, when Newt threw Thomas against the wall, it was the same fear in the end. Not being able to make it work, not being able to understand each others stuck under water with no way to communicate. It hadn’t take long for Thomas to understand something was wrong with Newt then, and it hadn’t take long for Newt to realise he could fight Thomas. The blond had ran away, pushing everyone away before Thomas could say anything. But this was not happening again.

“I’d understand if you prefer to stay friends.” Said Thomas, forcing the words out. “But don’t blame any of this on Teresa because she doesn’t change a thing. She never changed how I felt about you, and it has been that way for a while.” Thomas run his hand in his hair. It felt like he was running out of chances.

Newt kept his eyes away. His hands rested on the desk and his eyes on the floor keeping on building that wall between them.

“I’ve never told you. But now, I just can’t regret not telling you how much you mean to me. I need to wake up and just say it,” Thomas looked down to his hands reaching out for the blond. “How many hours I want to spent talking to you, how much I like the way you smirk when you’re sleepy, that you are never close enough or how much I want to touch you all the time.”

Thomas wanted to kiss him again but waited, seeing the blush spreading Newt’s cheeks. Thomas waited for Newt to look up.

“Tommy…” sighed Newt and Thomas knew he never believed it earlier. “Just think about it, I could just turn into a crank. I could turn and just try kill you, at any time. You don’t deserve living like-”

Thomas framed Newt’s face with his hands cutting the other boy short. How dares he say such insane things?

“Living like what? Like every seconds matter?” Thomas chuckled. “That’s the plan now.”

“Must be the first time in years that you have one,” teased Newt, fingers closing on Thomas’s t-shirt not pushing back, not tugging in. Thomas didn’t take the bait to lightened the mood and moved closer, stepping in against Newt.

“I’m done being unsure about this. I am not letting you go again,” muttered Thomas, so close from Newt they could kiss. Their noses were almost touching, hands settling on Newt’s shoulder brushing his neck. “I’m not giving up on you again. I know what it feels like living without you and it sucks. I am not planning to waste any more seconds.”

Newt clenched his jaw, trying to keep that stupid smile off his face. But he couldn’t. It was almost stupid how he couldn’t stop but as Thomas bourbon eyes flickered across his face Newt couldn’t stop. It was so sweet and touching, Newt wondered if he could ever find the courage and tell Thomas the same things. There was a reason, why Thomas was the one who got them out.

“Don’t make the decision for me, don’t push me away,” begged Thomas, trying to catch Newt’s eyes.

“I don’t want you to make a mistake,” whispered Newt grabbing Thomas’s hands in his tugging them down. “It’s our chance to make things right and I don’t want you to regret it.”

“I know what I’m signing up for,” smiled Thomas. “I want every seconds we can have, no matter what happens next.”

“Well, that’s bloody inspiring,” teased Newt sweetly.

Thomas chuckled, as Newt’s smile spread on his lips.

“If you know the risk,” Breathed in Newt playing with Thomas’s t-shirt hem. “I guess we should give it a try… I don’t want spend one more day without you next to me.”

Thomas smiled bright, eyes locking with his friend or boyfriend now?  
Newt pushed his chin up, and barely had to tugged the other boy in for Thomas to understand. He kissed him again and Newt sighed in relief. If he had to be honest, Newt had been thinking of doing it again all day long and there was no more denying.

“Just promise me you’re going to be okay,” whispered Newt pushing their forehead together. “That you’ll walk away if you can’t do it anymore with me.”

“It’s going be okay, Newt,” swore Thomas.

He leaned in to kiss to the blond again with much more certainty. They had enough of tentative, of soft or measured or scared. Newt kissed back immediately, rushing his hands into Thomas’s hair, not ready to let go. It was how they lived, desperate plans for desperate times, breath-taking and rushed. Thomas turned his head encouraging Newt take the lead, his hands moving on Newt’s hips tugging him closer. Newt was here, he was safe, Newt didn’t have to hide or run and Thomas wanted to make him understand it, to feel it.

“You’re safe,” repeated Thomas like it made sense. “Everything will be okay, I promise you. I won’t let it happen otherwise.”

“I know you won’t,” mocked Newt smiling against the other’s lips. Thomas kissed the smirk away.

Newt’s hands slide to Thomas’s jaw and neck starting to get frantic, looking for more. He pressed his thumb into Thomas' bottom lip and pulled down, opening his mouth a little. That was new for both of the boys, if he and Brenda ever did that when they were drugged, Thomas could not remember and didn’t want to. This was all new and Thomas wish it never stopped. Newt kissed his lower lip bitting into it softly. He jerked pushing Newt against the desk getting between the blond’s legs.  
After few tentative tries, Thomas slipped his tongue into the other boy mouth, enjoying Newt’s moan. The sound ran deep inside Thomas. He was definitely going to try to remember that one instead of all the nightmares Thomas kept on listening to at night; Newt begging to kill him, the explosion and Teresa last’s words. Any remanent taste of the flare was gone for good, it was all Newt.  
Thomas wished he could have Newt against him skin to skin, like it was the only thing that could help him forget about this mess, forget how terrified he was in the Glade, or how cold he felt that first night at the Firsthand camp without Minho or alone in that maze, walking aimlessly through the maze, watching the Glade through cameras and just replace it all with Newt alive and safe. Sadly, it involved way too much movement to remediate to it now. He would need to step back which was impossible, not when Newt was kissing him like that. Newt’s hands settled behind Thomas’s neck, holding him in place as he attacked his lips, his leg curling around him. Instead Thomas’s hands finally found a way under Newt’s t-shirt.

“Tommy,” gasped Newt, tensing as Thomas’s fingers ran on his back.

Thomas loved it when Newt said his nickname but that was on a whole new level, when it was breathless and needy. He wished he could play it again and again. Thomas tightened his hold on the other’s hips shifting his weight on him. Newt pushed back and Thomas swore his clothes were becoming uncomfortable way too fast. He could feel Newt’s breathe itched against his lips, hands gripping his hair.  
Did Newt even know what he does to him?

“Can I?” whispered Newt, fingers hooked on Thomas’ t-shirts hesitant. The blond kept his eyes away biting his lips. “Or we can just keep doing that.” He added in hurry hands moving away.

Thomas moved back and his breath itched, no, the blond definitely had no idea.

Thomas caught him in another kiss. “Please,” breathed Thomas again his lips, noses touching trying to get the blond to look up. “Your guess is as good as mine, don’t worry.”

Newt smiled into the kiss tugging Thomas’s t-shirt up, fingers running on his skin.

“Do you have a plan?” tried to tease Thomas but his voice wavered when Newt hands fell on his hips.

“Unlike you, I always do,” Newt teased hands hooking steadily on the jeans. He was going to drive Thomas crazy. “Can I?”

“That’s your plan? yes.” Breathed out Thomas like the stupid teenager he was. “Sure. You?”

“Same.” That was when Thomas decided it was unacceptable that Newt was wearing so many clothes. Shirt went first, messing the blond’s hair even more so and Thomas loved it.

Thomas pushed his face against Newt’s neck breathing in the warm chocolate smell still a bit ashy. He could almost hear the bomb and city collapsing in the back ground. Newt was shivering and Thomas moved down, mouth travelling up and down his neck tasting the salt and sand against his skin, searching for somewhere to bit down. He remembered all those night spent planning bickering and laughing outside on the shore, in the Scorch, in the sand under the burning sun. The sarcastic comments of the blond and that daring smile.  
Things were moving too fast and Thomas didn’t want them to slow down for once. Hands got mixed up, Newt chuckled before Thomas captured his lips again.

“Is it okay? I have no idea what I’m doing,” smiled Thomas breathlessly.

“Whatever it is, don’t bloody stop,” moaned Newt melting against him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Morning was way to soft and this time Minho didn’t walk in at any point. Not that much was happening, Thomas enjoyed a full night of sleep and comfy morning as Newt actually found his sleep somewhat a little more restful for once.

“What were we waiting for?” Wondered Thomas, hand brushing Newt’s hair.

“No idea… It’s not like we were running away from insane scientists and cranks,” wondered Newt trying not to laugh of his own joke.

“We did do a lot of running…” sighed Thomas smiling fingers brushing on Newt’s lips. “I thought about what you said last night.”

Newt hummed not really caring. How could he when Thomas started running his hands in his hair again.

“About not knowing when you will need the next dose,” Continued Thomas. “If you are going to need it at all, if it’s going to come back…”

Newt stilled for a moment, did they have to talk about it now? “It’s stupid I know,” blurred out Newt. “I know Brenda is fine and all. It was just some girl in the camp. It doesn’t matter.”

Thomas stopped a second before moving himself up on his elbows to roll above the other, his legs pushing between Newt to settle down against him.

“I think we should take that very seriously,” Thomas said, a grin creeping in hovering above Newt who looked more and more confused. “Always keep an eye for the symptoms, dark veins, dark mouth…”

Thomas leaned down kissing his lips lightly.

“What?” chuckled Newt turning his head away.

“I think we should stay here, all day, everyday,” continued Thomas. “Naked preferably. I mean this is serious, I’m sure the others would understand.”

Newt started to giggle as Thomas kissed his neck. “You’re an idiot Tommy.”

But the idiot just smile against Newt’s skin humming in agreement. Newt ran his hands on Thomas back not going to stop him.

“You talk to Minho, then,” laughed out Newt just before Thomas stopped him in his track stealing his breath away.

“Less talking,” teased Thomas laughing against the other’s skin. “This is serious a matter. We can focus on technicalities later.”

Newt laughed out louder as Thomas kept on changing his mind between kissing the blond and just tickling him, which was just childish if you ask Newt.  
The bed sheets ruffling and rolling around the bed did not last for long before Thomas’s name was called.

Thomas had brushed a kiss on his temple rushing out. Apparently sleeping in wasn’t part of Gally’s work ethic. Newt let him go but couldn’t stop this feeling. It was such a foreign thing, those butterfly in his stomach and the good apprehension of whatever they were going toward. Most of his emotions had been sucked out of him by the maze, the death of his friends and the gloomy future they had paved in front of them. For so long nothing was going to be okay but now it seems just as if the future, now, was going to be fine.  
Thomas had fooled him into believing that, like some kind of dangerous black magic, it was going to be okay. So typically Thomas. He always made the impossible feel not as so far out of reach. Newt knew at that moment getting up to meet up with Brenda not only he loved Thomas but this was the best second chance they could have dreamt of.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for the Kudos and all, really motivated us throughout this chapter... If it feels like the end, well you're not wrong the next chapter is going some kind of Epilogue with little jumps forward in time... (I mean, not everything gets resolved because they're together! That would be just too easy...)  
> Thanks for reading!!


	6. Epilogue 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! Sorry for the delay… Got distracted and unable to come up with something for too long.  
> In a moment of despair, my mother asked me what was wrong. I told her I didn’t know how to end a short story, she just said I should just kill everyone in a zombie apocalypse! Can you imagine? If she only knew, it would defeat the whole purpose of this thing!  
> Anyway, that’s what I came up with. Hope you like it!  
> We decided to separate the chapter in two but don’t expect too much of it, it’s mostly drabbles that I couldn’t fit in anywhere else...

Days later:

 

They’d moved from the medical tent for few days now, but still Thomas kept walking in the wrong direction. Drenched in sweat Thomas turned around, cursing himself as he walked back to where Newt and him had settled down for the moment. It wasn’t anything permanent, thought through nor even dully decided. It just happened. They didn’t have the luxury to request individual accommodation even if wanted to. Maybe in a few years when the urgency of answering to basic necessity didn’t weight down the camp as priority. Maybe. They had other problem and one of which was starting to get on his nerves.

“You need to talk to your sister,” announced Thomas, shirt sticking to his back, hardened by a mixed of sand and dust congealed together into the fabric.

“I do, in fact I talk to her all day long,” smiled Newt comfortably from the floor. Fresh air from the sea was now rushing in the cabin. The sun had only started to fall and the wind breeze picking up, finally delivering everyone on the camp. “The last thing I want to do today is to have to talk to her again,” he laughed. “No offence but one more word about the ‘legitimacy of authority’ and I stage a coup just to exile her.”

“So sorry,” Thomas smiled strolling through the room to grab the nearest towel to dry his face “She’s still obsessing about the book she found on the boat then?”

“Yeah…” asked Newt, pushing his paper away. “How was your day?” he tried instead apparently not interest in continuing on this line of questioning.

Thomas shrugged easily, rolling his shoulders as the soreness landed harder and harder every passing second. Gally was not letting him off easily, every morning picking Thomas up at the first morning lights. It was cutting trees and moving truck to the little village outskirt, all day. In silence. Lunch was brought in by Frypan and they were left alone again. Not one word spoken until the sun started to set, nothing but dull orders and aloof directions. Thomas fantasied to bash his head on the nearest trunk by ten a.m. on the first day but now he had gotten used to it. Newt scold him sufficiently for him to think about it twice before punching someone else.  
Unexpectedly Thomas almost looked forward it now. Working with Gally, not punching him. It was peaceful, not worrying about the other, just working together in the present, step by step, cut by cut working the anger and the terror out of their muscles unto something tangible.

“Still working?” asked Thomas, eyes running on his friend surrounded in papers. They had find a whole bunch of it in the boat, making everyone terribly relieved, despite Brenda fondness on the aesthetic of writing in the sand.

“Just reviewing the list of people running of the council a last time,” sighed the blond. “Trying to come up with some sense of who is could get on my side.”

“Any luck?”

Newt sighed one more time, waving at the mess around him in defeat. Thomas knew were too many people presenting, running for different position. The whole election was organised in two rounds, representatives of each of the camps sectors; the head of medical, head of security, of food storage, agriculture… etc and then there will be an election the head of council of executive power. It was mess if you asked his opinion.  
Everything was still blurry and people kept on coming with new ideas. It was hard starting from scratch but it was refreshing for everyone; this feeling of having control over their own life for once. But it seemed as the more they thought of it, the more complicated it got, until there was a mass of papers on the table to the floor and everyone was shouting. Thomas had attended one meeting and he had had enough.  
Seeing them struggle, just kept on reminding him of Alby and how it must have felt like, taking over the group of lost boys, giving them structure when there was so much fear and so many unknown dangers lurking around them. He could only imagine how Newt and Minho were feeling about it.

Newt pulled away and threw the stack of paper in his hand on the top of the pile, apparently done in every sense of the way.

“What’s up with Sonya anyway?” asked Newt a bit amused by Thomas state. He knew he looked like he had melt. Working in the sun all day with Gally turned him in a puddle of water by mid-day and a smelly mop by the time the sun set.

“Sonya’s going mad,” he asserted finally taking his t-shirt off.

“Same…” moaned Newt, staring shamelessly at Thomas before being brought back by questioning eyes. “I mean, she’s overworking herself to the ground… There’s just so much work she can shoulder before she goes insane.”

“Well, if she stops pestering me, maybe she’ll have more time,” he grumbled low enough for the other to barely hear any of it.

Newt stared like he usually would when he thought Thomas sounded childishly petty. Thomas decided to take the high road and ignore it by getting some fresh water.

“Did she finally corner you and beg you to run for head of security?” teased Newt leaning back on his hands to follow Thomas movements. “She keeps saying you would be best for that.”

Thomas rolled his eyes.

“You should just give up,” taunted Newt. “When she has something in head even Harriet can’t talk sense into her.”

Thomas stopped struggling to find clean clothes . “It’s not about the election.”

“Oh? Then what?” asked Newt suddenly confused.

“She doesn’t like the idea of me and-“ he trailed on drinking some water as his free hand waved around the room.

Newt didn’t understand, eyes fixed on him, waiting for Thomas finish that sentence but he never did so he tried.

“She doesn’t like you and… Gally?” proposed the blond standing up. “Something happened with Gally?”

“No,” sighed Thomas grabbing the towel again, to wash off as best as possible without too much hassle. “It’s about us. Us going out and all…”

“Going out?” repeated Newt astonished, like the idiot he is, a smirk on his lips. “Where? You could have told me.”

Minho and Brenda had started saying that about relationship, it stuck. But obliviously Newt didn’t believe in it. What were they going to do? Walk to the next beach over holding hands? He had a point. Well, they were not going out anywhere special for sure but it sounded nice, simple.

Thomas glared, trying not to be amused by the overused running joke, “You know what I mean… And your sister doesn’t like it.”

“Why would she oppose it, Tommy? It doesn’t make sense,” he frowned. “No one even think about it. Sonya doesn’t care neither.”

People might have commented on it at the beginning but it had quiet down as none of them were really throwing around their semblance of relationship they tried to build. They didn’t hold hands, they didn’t lay on the beach on lunch break like Sonya and Harriet, nor get caught making out like Minho and Brenda when they were suppose to work.  
Thomas worked all day with Gally and Newt too. Not with Gally, with the council. It wasn’t a big deal. People didn’t need to know that Thomas would fall asleep to counting quietly the seconds each breath Newt took as he slept next to him, the kisses, the terrible jokes and the way Thomas hold him close, face buried against the crow of his neck at sunrise. Okay and sex was great but really, who needed to know?  
It just didn’t feel right to throw their relationship in everyone’s faces, they decided after all, they’d been through enough drama, Or maybe that was just a lie to explain why Thomas would always break eyes contact in public as if in sudden embarrassment, or not dare to let his touch linger on Newt’s shoulder, arm, or hand. But it was enough for Newt, Thomas was sure. It didn’t matter anyway, they had all the time in world to decide what they wanted to do now.

Thomas still hadn’t answer, and went to sit down next to the blond.

“She can be over-protective…” recognised Newt, hands toying with closest the papers at his feet. “Just talk it out?”

“I’ve tried,” whined Thomas sinking down to the floor. His eyes on the ceiling and head almost on the papers. “She just won’t listen. If I knew it wouldn’t bother you, I’d call up the council over this.”

“The council?!” scoffed his friend. “That’s a bit much.”

Thomas glared angling his face just right to show his friend the seriousness of it. “I just don’t know what to do! She keeps glaring from afar. She threatened me!”

Newt couldn’t stop his chuckles at the theatricality of his sigh.

“Are you actually scared?” he teased, leaning over Thomas.“She wouldn’t hurt you.”

“I’ve seen her use a rifle. I’m terrified of her and so should you.”

“Okay! Okay!” smiled Newt moving some of the stacks away to lay down too. “I’ll tell her to slow down on threats.”

“Cool.”

Silence settled, as the camp started to get louder and louder outside as temperature decreased sufficiently for the beach to be enjoyable. Thams hand slithering across the papers to find Newt’s, tugging at it for more attention. “Gotten dinner yet?”

 

* * *

 

 

“I need to talk with Sonya,” called Newt dropping by the election headquarters after dinner.

While most of the camp was moving back to their own rooms, one hunt still shone bright in the night. The voices were loud and worn out. Everybody turned to the new comer. Things and people hadn’t move much from where he left them at earlier. Food had been delivered but outside for this added layer of mess, nothing was new.

“The election can wait, this discussion can’t,” grunted Vince mentioning Newt out of the room.

“We’re trying to work out if we need a Constitution before the election,” tried George. “An pragmatic opinion would be welcomed?”

“We need a referendum!” pipped up Sonya.

“We can’t ask people to vote on something we won’t even have a draft of!” rebutted Harriet. Someone else shouted louder and it seemed to be the trend because Vince didn’t react to the background noise, his eyes steady fixed on Newt.

“Tomorrow,” he repeated voice almost sounding like a beg. He was at the very end of his strengths.

Newt felt flushed and suddenly childish for bringing personal matter in what he suppose would be as close as business setting as possible here but they clearly needed a break and he promised Thomas he would deal with it as soon as possible.

“You need to take a break,” tried Newt and everyone actually stop shouting to consider. “And this is not about the election… It’s about Tommy.”

Everyone looked up and turned to Sonya who smiled innocently from her sit at the end of the table. “Is it?” she smiled.

“Thomas’s okay?” asked Harriet staring at her girlfriend, unimpressed.

“Yeah… The big sister talk might have gone too far.”

“She what?” started Vince taking in a deep breath, eyes closing in pain. The headache was almost visible. Then, shutting up Newt’s explanation with a wave of hand, he mentioned everyone out of the room.“Wait. That’s exactly why I’m not running for president of council. There is some things I don’t want to know about.”

Vince just looked exasperated. “Just sort it out quickly.”

“We’ll do our best,” Sonya smiled.

“Have some sleep,” advised the blond instead. He didn’t wait to be invited and sat down as the last one were moving out.

Sonya didn’t seem worried and just waltz in a sit closer to her brother with a pious smile.

Vince just glared a last time at the both of them before storming out calling after Harriet as she sent a last suspicious glance at her girlfriend before turning away.

“So,” smiled Sonya. “Thomas?”

Silence fell on the room and Newt didn’t know where to start. It was the first time he had a sister. Nobody in the Glade was related. Even with a manual Newt wouldn’t be sure how to talk to her. They had the same eyes, the same blond hair and more he repeated it to himself the more he could see the resemblance between them. They had the same blood but they never learned how to deal with it. She wasn’t Newt’s closest friend but somehow they always found shared territories to walk on. Why wasn’t it the case now?

“So are you together?” she tried.

Everyone knew. It was rhetorical at best, so Newt answered with a nice and neat, “Yes.”

“That’s all I get?” teased Sonya, keeping the tone light but it was just a bit too bitter to be honest. “A late notice and no details?”

Newt looked over to the shelves ready to bang his head against it. Minho had spend the week demanding details about the relationship. The whole ordeal had apparently been fuelling an important betting scheme around the camp. After few hours of cards, hopefully there was enough gossip for them to last the month and leave Newt alone with the questioning.  
It was nice to talk to his friend again though. Newt barely remembered what they fought about to begin with.

“Everyone has known for a while… Ever since, Minho seemed a bit too shaken that one morning,” giggled Sonya.

“Nothing happened that morning, Minho overreacted.” Answered Newt maybe with too much force because why can’t everyone focusing on their own bloody lives for once? Hadn’t they given enough of their privacy away in the Maze?

“Sure…” teased Sonya leaning back on the chair, so smudged and confident.

“Nothing happened,” exasperated Newt.

“And that’s the problem?” whispered Sonya, getting closer to her brother to elbow him.

“No!” hissed Newt wondering how putting a stop to Sonya’s bullying led him to be the one under attack. “The problem’s that you’re harassing him.”

“So he came crying to you…” she smirked.

“He was concerned.”

Sonya rolled her eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t like it.” announced Sonya. “You and him…”

Newt searched her face for more explanation because this didn’t make sense. “Why not?”

“I don’t think you’re ready,” bragged Sonya and Newt had to tried hard not to choke.

“That’s not up to you!” he yelped, hands shooting to the sky.

Sonya straightened in her seat. “I don’t want to see you hurt because of him,” she continued unwavering. “Thomas has been flapping around like a butterfly, looking at Teresa for a bit, then Brenda for some more, now you. People talk.”

Newt let the cold wash through him. “It’s not like that.” He said. His hands shook but it wasn’t from anger toward his sister or Thomas’s crushes and flings creating gossip. Maybe it was his frustration to realise there was still a part of him that would believe those words even after all of Thomas’s promises.

“You’re the only family I have,” she continued remorselessly, proud to come clean. “You’re the last one and somehow I can’t never catch you alone.”

“Sonya…” winced Newt. Did she not understand the stress they were under? “If you wanted to play card together, you could have just ask!?”

“I have lost you too many times and if I need to threaten Thomas every day, then be it!” she declared and stood up, hands flat o the table. “If I need to remind him everyday that you’re the last thing I have left of family and that he’d better be bloody careful, then I will.”

Newt wasn’t sure how to respond, a disbelieving saddened smile tugging at his lips. He stared at his sister in wonder. He was such an idiot for no trusting her more.

“You’re not going lose me,” he said.

“I lost almost everyone in the Maze, I thought we were never going to stop running from the WCKD,” she continued eyes tracing the patterns on the table filling up slowly in water. “I can’t let anyone of my family get hurt again.”

Newt nodded slowly, reaching to grab her hand. “I’m sorry…”

“It’s okay, we’re all busy,” she mumbled, blinking hard. “I’m just overworked,” she laughed bitterly.

“It’s okay.” Newt let her hand go, watching her trying to get hold of herself again.

“It’s just he never holds your hand or anything,” she urged trying to explain pushing the tears away. “I wanted to make sure he was honest and in love, like, you know…”

“We’re fine,” smiled Newt. “As far as I know he is… and that enough for now, for me.”

“Are you sure? Are you happy?” she said ready to just up and go kick Thomas’s ass.

“Sonya. Please,” warned Newt. “We’re fine.”

Sonya did not back down, it wasn’t like her but it was her brother and she was not going to waste that relationship so carelessly. “What’s going on then?” she asked more softly.

“It’s complicated.”

“Try me.”

Newt sighed, it was his turn to straighten in his sit, quivering under his sister glare. “I think we’re just going along whatever this is… We have no idea of what we’re doing.”

Sonya did not hold back a snort. “No surprises here,” she holed. “How did you guys even survived in the maze on your own?”

“To be honest, Sonya, I don’t know,” laughed Newt. “We’ll sort it out eventually.”

Sonya nodded along silently. “You know I’ll kill him if he hurts you,” she reiterated.

Newt let a smile run across his face again. “I’m sure it won’t be necessary.”

Sonya didn’t laugh before adding, “At least when you’re in charge, you’ll be able to get me off.”

“I thought people liked my ruthlessness like when I threw Thomas in the pit,” pointed out Newt. “I can’t disappointed them by sparing you.”

They both laughed their hearts out, wondering how it had come to this.

“But I’m your sister!” stressed Sonya.

 

* * *

 

Weeks later;

 

“Are you hiding?” asked Brenda, finally finding Newt at the small cliff looking out to the waves.

“Wanted some calm,” confessed Newt not bothering to move, not even feeling guilt.

There was no use in getting excited now. The only thing they could do now was wait. The results would come on their own.

He didn’t want to say it out loud but maybe he was actually worried of losing. Maybe this all things ended up like something he actually cared about. He had tried to fool himself into thinking he would find something else to do if he lost but really what? What would he give to be like Thomas always busy, always finding stuffs to get involve in.

Thomas said that it wouldn’t be the case, but Newt could feel it deep in his bones. He was no good on camp, and if left to his own device it would not take long before falling into the same pattern than in the Maze.

“Why are you and Minho always hiding around here?” wondered Brenda sitting down next to him, breathless from the little trek. The cliff was a perfect point of view, high above the campement allowing for an open view over the beach and the sea.

“Reminds us where we are, I guess?” They kept on finding places at the shade of the trees but near from the sea to have that breathtaking open view on the ocean.

“Why not just sit on the beach like the rest of us?” she teased.

“Some bad habit I guess,” he rectified, hands digging in the sand. On one hand, the trees around them made it feel like home and the direct view over the camp kept the paranoia at bay. And on the other side, it was just so open; Newt could stood up and swim straight ahead until exhaustion without anything to stop him.

“Looming over the camp?” supposed Brenda. “Was it the daily activity in the Maze?”

“Yeah,” chuckled Newt waving at it. “We used to meet up with Alby on the side other side of the Glade and look out at the sheds.”

“Must have been nice…”

Newt didn’t answer, Brenda didn’t deserve some snappy comments about how “nice” was that dreadful cage holding them prisoners as scientists dissected their friends on the over side and deadly robotic worms screaming in the night waiting on them to misstep. Wasn’t it just wonderful.

Newt didn’t just want to forget the Maze, he wanted it erased from his brain. He wanted it gone, but nevertheless as much as he hated it, it was always going to be his first home. Missing the Maze was a very peculiar feeling for each Gladder and other persons taken in by WCKD. It was hard for others to understand the mice of lovely and distressing, sweet and horrifying memories. Some of them did know about the Maze, asked about it, tried to imagine but most would never understand the fear and happiness of that time. Even with Thomas and he argued about it sometimes.  
It stayed with Thomas so differently than the long term Gladders. Maybe because he didn’t actually lived there long to have anything else than bad memories and it brought up only anger and blood freezing horror.

“Thomas’s doing much progress at the sessions,” Brenda said off hand, just starting the conversation again.

“I’m not going Brenda,” sighed Newt, feeling the stare of his friend on his face. He was not going to sat down and talk about turning into a Crank, or getting tortured by mad scientists that erased his memories and killed his friends in front of him. No thanks, he was going to be doing something else of his days than revisiting those wonderful memories. Call it denial, if you must. Drama Queen, Newt didn’t care. “I’m happy that it helps Thomas, but I’m not going.”

Thinking it was merely exhaustion, nobody commented on Newt’s silence every time the Maze was spoken about. Brenda had obliviously noticed and keep on inviting Newt to join.  
Minho had decided joke about it now, trying to bring it up as much as humanly possible, trying to make those disgusting and horrifying thoughts a casual part of the ordinary daily life.  
Gally regretted too much to actually mention any of it first but Brenda’s project actually helped a lot. Newt could at least recognise this. She would sit down and talk about it, it was open for anyone to attend. To say the least, even Newt was feeling more okay with mentioning it in passing, maybe he just needed to work with it at his own pace.

“I know you won’t…” she cut in. “I know you quite well now. All of you.”

Newt looked up at the tease in her voice. “Do you now?”

“Yep,” she smirked quite smug. “And I can say that Thomas’s doing great and not just thanks to the project.”

Newt frowned. Thomas missed having a goal and going back the active life of the camp helped so much. Brenda said it was from the “PTDS.” Thomas was simply searching for the adrenaline. It was a itch under his skin. Newt didn’t show any of that overflow of energy, on the contrary, and somehow that fit perfectly with Thomas, regulating them both.

“I know you both act like there’s nothing out of the ordinary,” teased Brenda. “But you’re good together.”

Newt wasn’t sure what to say, it was nice but at the same time he didn’t expect to have Brenda’s opinion on “them.”

“Thanks?” bloused Newt. “It’s not, like, a big deal…”

Brenda scoffed. “Don’t let Thomas lie to you like that,” she mocked. “The Immune War wasn’t a big thing for him neither! And look where it lead him! Punching Gally and all.”

“Fair…” sighed Newt eyes back on the sea when tumult was heard from somewhere behind them.

“Newt!” shouted Thomas rushing in.

Both turned and looked at the intruder in surprise. “What!?” “Tommy?!” asked standing up, heart racing, ready for the worst.

“You’ve won!!!” laughed Thomas grabbing the blond by the arm.

Brenda looked to the setting sun, “That’s… too early?”

“You got 80% out of the 60% of accounted votes, yet!” laughed Thomas shaking his friend who was still silent. “You’ve got it!”

“Wow! Congrats!!” smiled Brenda patting him on the shoulder.

“What?” flattered Newt.

“You won!” he repeated grabbing Newt’s hands. “You’re Council President!”

The blond laughed shakily, large smile running on his face, he jumped into Thomas’s arms. His arms wrapping around Thomas’s neck, Newt didn’t even think twice before pressing against his friend. Thomas didn’t hesitate reciprocating easily, arms around his waist.

“I’m so proud,” simply whispered Thomas.

“Got to catch Minho!” Interrupted Brenda. “I am so claiming all of my bets tonight!”

“Really?” asked Thomas moving back to watch her run off.

“I can’t believe they’re still organising those betting matches… Vince should have put an end to it.” Chuckled Newt as Brenda rushed toward the beach.

“You mean you…” teased Thomas.

“What?”

“You could put an end at it, just say so,”

Newt rolled eyes, “Pretty sure I didn’t get elected to control Minho and Brenda’s betting habit.”

“Maybe we should bet too sometimes,” decided Thomas.

“Nah… You’re too clueless and I’m too pessimistic,” jabbed Newt, hands brushing on Thomas’s shirt.

Thomas laughed at it easily holding the blond close one last time while more and more shouts of joy rose from the camp.

“I can’t believe it actually worked,” whispered Newt.

“I can,” smirked Thomas like the idiot he is.

“What about you?” mumbled Newt face pushed against Thomas’s shoulder.

“Don’t know yet…” sighed the brunet, because yeah… Sonya had won in the end. He had presented. Newt moved away, daring to glance back at the main area.

“Let’s go see for ourselves then…”

 

* * *

 

Months later;

 

“You think they were right?” whispered Newt. It was late, late in the morning, not enough for the smell of lunch to start leaving Frypan’s kitchen, but late enough for people to already be slowing down under the sun’s weight.

“We’re not talking about the storage unit organisation again, right?” mouthed Thomas against the blond’s neck, loving the little breaks they just started to find throughout the day. Their new jobs definitely hold some advantages.

Newt laughed pushing Thomas just away enough from his neck to catch his lips again. “Can you let me be bitter about losing that vote?”

“I did! I listened to you whine about it for a whole week,” chuckled Thomas kissing his jaw.

“I did not.”

“You did,” Breathed Thomas against his neck, as Newt absently tried to tug his top off placing his hands on Thomas’s skin. “You had a whole existential crisis about losing the majority over a minor issue.”

“Maybe I did,” conceded the blond unable to fight off Thomas’s grin.

Thomas ultimately complied with Newt demanding tugs and took his t-shirt off. They still have a handful minutes before someone would call.

“So, what are they right about?” he asked working on Newt’s clothes now.

“Nothing important…” pressed Newt trying to get back to he much preferred activity of kissing Thomas breathless.

“Go on,” insisted Thomas, feeling Newt tensing against him.

“It’s stupid.”

“Is it?” persisted the idiot.

Newt just wanted to roll his eyes, because obliviously Thomas would not let it go. “Just… Like if they’re right in thinking, I can make right decision, and so on…” murmured Newt in a rushed voice as his hand running in Thomas’s hair tightened as he bite down on his neck.

“You remember that there is a whole council around you, right?” mumbled Thomas.

The blond hummed, hands running out Thomas’s hair to his chest.

“But?” guessed Thomas, dragging words out of his friend mouth and grabbing his hands to put a stop at the distracting tactics he was pulling.

“What if something happens to you?” huffed Newt, getting his hands out Thomas’s grip.

“Nothing we won’t be able to deal with,” cut off the younger boy.

As if Thomas had deserved to hear about such terrible words because he had chased after them when Newt had begged him to let it go.

“What if you get hurt?” insisted Newt regretting each word has they followed. “What if I start feeling terrible again and it’s too much? If you can’t deal with it- If you leave- and I-”

What if you leave me; Newt couldn’t even say it out loud . He could fell the choking panic knowing there was nothing he could demand of Thomas, and nothing that Thomas could answer. There was no way to make this feel real, make them feel safe, because it was whole in his head. Not that Thomas, a renown stubborn git, would not make and keep any promises Newt could asked him.  
But he couldn’t ask him to stay. Not when Thomas would agree without hesitation but still ran away from him in front of their friends. It didn’t matter, because what matter wasn’t what other saw, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t killing Newt softly with doubts and dormant fears.  
He was waiting for the sword to drop, counting on Thomas to see all of the other immunes around them and realise that Newt might be just a friend.  
It was true. Teresa was always Thomas’s soulmate. They were always on the same wave length, mind-reading each other without even having to try, trusting each other without a second thought given to doubts nor reason. After this, was what they had enough for Thomas? For how long? What if she was alive? Would he stay?

“What if WCKD is still out there looking?” he said instead lying to them both. “What if they find us? What if this is not real?”

“And what if the sky falls off?” mocked Thomas and Newt didn’t dare to say yes, exactly! So he glared, weakly, as Thomas cupped his face in his hands. Newt really hoped the water blurring his vision wasn’t visible to his friend.

“What if this is not meant to be?” Newt regretted each word as soon as he uttered them.

“If what…” Thomas blinked, worry washing over his face. “No… don’t do this.” His fingertips ran on the blond’s cheek. He tried to smile, pleading eyes that forced Newt to look away for a second.

“Stop selling us short,” coaxed Thomas pushing some blond strands out of the way of brown blinking eyes. “We’ll be fine.”

Newt nodded staidly at Thomas’s words.

“We are,” persisted Thomas searching for his eyes.

Thomas leaned down capturing the blond’s lips, taking his attention away.

“I didn’t mean it,” lied Newt against his lip. It was an heartfelt apology, perhaps a bit clumsy and precarious but he couldn’t summon anything more. An easy smile slowly moved into place and a shaky breath settling slowly.

Thomas kissed him again, useless in this deadlock. He didn’t stop until he could feel Newt relax under his hands. Newt let it happen, because after all there was no reason behind his fears, they were fine, right? There was nothing Thomas hadn’t already told him that could make him change his mind.

“Nothing will happen. I’m fine and I swear, you’re much harder to kill than what you look like.” Smiled Thomas as Newt’s fingers slide down to pause on the hem of Thomas’s jean. It didn’t go far.

“I look easy to kill?” Newt asked confused of the statement as Thomas chuckled, unashamed with smirk on his lips .The blond continued to fake scandal and shock but it was harder each passing second.

“No, I wouldn’t dare to say that of the Council President,” laughed Thomas hiding his face against Newt’s neck giving up on the t-shirt.

“Yeah, you’d better not,” Newt teased pushing Thomas away. He did not even try to hide his grin.

“Or what?” He taunted tugging the blond to him. “You’ll throw me in the pit again?”

The cry of outraged wasn’t fake that time, and Thomas barely had time to react before a pillow smashed to his face.

“Maybe I should!” the blond shouted right before Thomas tackled him to the floor, laughing out loud.

Newt sat proudly on the top of his friend enjoying maybe not pyrrhic but nonetheless total victory. It didn’t last long before Thomas decided to go back to the main activity and bring down Newt toward him to kiss the blond breathless.

“Thomas!! Vince!!” shouted some high pitched voice that Newt recognised immediately.

“Really?” marvelled Thomas. It had been a few weeks already he was part of the camp’s security and Newt running the council and he had started to believe it was a game to call on at least one of them at an interval of 3 hours though night and day.

As soon as they looked up Harriet ran in, breathless, shotgun in hand. “Guys, you need to come. Now.”

She didn’t even looked fazed or surprised, Newt stood up in one quick motion, frowning at the gun and Harriet troubling behaviour. It had been a quiet day so far. An accident maybe? But Thomas wouldn’t called on… A fight?

“Couldn’t you have at least given us a few minutes before bargaining in?” asked Thomas, unlike the blond he hadn’t noticed anything amiss from her behaviour.

“Just come… We have a situation,” she urged, not interest in whatever Thomas was saying. Her eyes ran around the room hastily, stomping a little, ready to ran out. “Now.”

Newt stared hand settling on the desk to help his leg straightened. “What’s going on?”

“There’s something in the water,” she explained voice wavering. “You should come too.”

Forgetting about the crumbled t-shirt in one corner of the room and merely avoiding to step on the pillow, Thomas hurried behind Harriet. People were scattered around the island for the moment but soon people were going to back to the main Hall for food. Some had already started to meet up and Harriet ruled her expression out of any emotion walking quietly.

Newt noticed her sister sitting down at one of the table without a worry in the world. She didn’t know but still threw a questioning glance at them when they didn’t come to her table. Newt waved at her that everything was fine.

As soon as they were out of sight they rushed to the beach. There was a small group discussing at the top of the hill.

“What’s wrong?” Newt asked when they quiet down and Harriet didn’t say anything. Thomas’s eyes were lock far away in front of them, directly to the sea.

“Is this-?” started Thomas fear fulfilling up his throat. Newt’s head snapped toward him sensing the concern in his voice. Harriet handed him the gun so he could use the visor to look at the black point in the sea.

Thomas didn’t speak, his eyes took a moment to realise what was wrong.

“It’s a boat,” Harriet announced. Unconsciously Newt took a step back.

“I saw it,” Erik added. “I looked for Harriet when I couldn’t find you.”

It was maybe meant to be a reproach but Thomas couldn’t care. “No way…” he gasped gawking at it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was a boat, heading straight for their beach. There was no denying they’d saw. The smoke from the main hall alone could be seen miles away. So, Jorge had establish contact, as soon as he was notified.

Aboard the embarkation held 10 passengers. Or so they said.  
Did not know about WKCD, none of them infected, or so they said.

Newt was staying as still as possible. He sat down next to Sonya, as Thomas paced up and down the Council Room.

“They should reach the shore within a few hours,” Vince claimed walking in.

“We can’t let them in like this,” reiterated Newt for the fourth time since they’d contact the boat. His fingers continuously drummed against the wooden table. “It’s too dangerous.”

“People are talking.” Harriet urged, arms crossed as she stood in the back of the room. “We need to come up with a plan before panic start spreading.”

“We know,” snapped Charlotte, head of medical who just got convoked.

Newt sighed, looking at the map of the island opened in front of them. Thomas’s group had been working on it for the past month, he wasn’t sure if he was proud to finally see it at use or not.

“I’m going to say it.” Sonya declared stopping herself from picking at her sleeves; “What if it’s WCKD?”

Thomas had to glance at Newt. The blond did react steeled and composed as he used to in the Glade, his eyes falling on Thomas too.

“Unlikely,” supposed Vince, staring at Newt too. “They wouldn’t have been interest in knowing who was in the camp. Jorge said they didn’t ask anything about us.”

“We can’t run the risk,” decided unanimously Newt. Acid memories flooding Thomas mind as he remember Newt standing at the Maze’s entrance, attached to the Law refusing to save his friends.

“But we can’t let them out there!” scoffed Thomas, rage bubbling in him. Did they not change at all?

“We can’t physically stop them from coming closer,” added Sonya.

“We could,” pipped up Harriet from somewhere in the back of the room. She hadn’t put down her gun.

“What about deterrence?” asked Charlotte leaning on the table. “Two well placed shot and they’d understand to stay the Hell away.”

“Deterrence?” scoffed Thomas.

“We’re not opening fire on them without a good reason,” scolded Newt glancing at Vince for back up. He was Vice President for a reason. “We are not going to put human beings in danger just because we’re unreasonably scared.”

“What if they have the Flare?” growled Charlotte. “We’re not all immunes, here!”

Newt didn’t dare look at Thomas this time and neither did he.

“Should we vote?” asked Sonya.

“Vote?” repeated Vince. “We’ll never agree and before we can even take a decision they’ll either starve on the boat or here.”

“Or we’ll be dead,” added Charlotte.

“This is a crisis,” said Harriet. “It needs to be Newt’s decision.”

The blond did not react eyes fixed on the map.

“We can quarantine them,” proposed Charlotte.

“Where?” asked Sonya pointing at the beach. “Ask them to sit around quietly while we decide either or not to feed them?”

“They’re people,” growled Thomas. “We should let them in. We can’t start working like WCKD. We can’t do the same mistakes. Being scared of everyone and barricading ourselves in just because it might be a risk for us. We can’t decide who deserve to live or who doesn’t.”

“Thomas’s right, we can’t let them die,” quipped Sonya from her sit.

“And risking everyone’s life?” asked Charlotte.

Newt kept silent. They had feared something like that would arrived. A situation with no solution where he would have to take a decision fro everyone. He had had nightmare about it a few times, though most of them would involved nice reminder of the worst decision made in the Glade. Thomas didn’t live through all, but the general panic and chaos that spread in the Glade during the last few days were enough to imagine. Nevertheless, none of this was present for the moment. People were concerned and worried but no panicked. Outside for the people in this room plus Eric and his two friend no one was aware of this. They could still plan this out.

“We can’t tell them to leave, they know about us now.” Vince declared. “It’s too dangerous. There could be anyone on that boat. They could be armed.”

Thomas rolled his eyes ready to attack again.

“Tell them to anchor here,” finally said Newt, finger on the map. “We’ll prepare some kind of quarantine, they’ll need to stay on that boat until Charlotte thinks it’s safe and that all weapons are surrendered. We need to be clear on the fact that if anything goes amiss we’ll sink them.”

“You actually want to send people on this thing?” shrieked Charlotte.

“It’s too much risk,” said Vince.

“Aren’t I Council President?” asked Newt. He didn’t flinched at Vince’s disproving stare and Harriet’s glare. “If you want to overthrow me find yourself a majority ready to overrule me. It’s not my rules.”

Everyone fell silent Sonya the only one going on boarding straight away with the plan, “And after quarantine?”

“If they want to stay after it all, they can,” decided Newt against all his fear, Thomas thanking him in silence. “We’re not going to close ourselves off in fear. Too many people died from this already. Plus if they aren’t immune we might have a solution for them.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Thomas was still awake in the dead of night.

They just had survived the Immune Civil War (as Brenda named it), it was still an unusual occurrence to go through the day with the distinct tangible sensation that their life could be more peaceful. Because now they knew how it felt.  
All he learned had been obeying to WCKD until they got dumped into the Glade. And there, they’d wake up and do their part, there was no laying down with your lover to make out under the trees, thinking about the bright future, none of those things. It was running away from monsters and death. Even more so in the Scorch, not even mentioning the Last City.  
But now it was happening. Everything was falling into place; Newt, his job, his life, and it was terrifying.  
If only they could stop being thrown challenges left and right.

Newt had just collapsed on the bed and was fast asleep in the minute as Thomas ran his hand in the blond’s hair. They only had one evening off since the boat had arrived last week and it hadn’t even been on the same one. They kept on crossing path, but the only time they could actually talk about something else than work was at the short lunch they shared in the Council Chamber with the others. The camp was just starting on the second week of quarantine with the frail hope to hold everything still until Charlotte gave the green light. It worked. It was hectic for everyone on the island but it worked out okay for the moment.

The radio went off, the new invention of Jorge, keeping them all connected and updated. The Devil’s instrument he had succeeded to fix earlier and had been slowly breaking up the boys sleeping pattern.

“Already…” grumbled Thomas.

Newt stirred but it was only when Thomas climbed out of bed, the blond looked up. “Please…” he begged. “Tell me it’s not mine?” he mumbled, hand running over his eyes.

“Nah, you’re fine,” whispered Thomas pushing on his outstretched hand to grab that awful thing.

Leaving with a last kiss against his temple, Thomas was sure Newt felt back into sleep the second he walked out. As he made his way down to the shore, only a handful of people was awake. The sun had barely starting to show as Harriet run up to him, shotgun screwed to her side.

“One of them’s missing.”

 


	7. Epilogue 2

 

“We had it under control!! You’re exhausting!” shouted Newt one more time. His hand were still covered in blood. Someone called his name again but he even acknowledge it. He ignored them as he was going to shout louder than them anyway.

“You’re exhausting me! I should force you to step down!-” Newt was surely going to expend on the threat when Charlotte without a warning dropped in.

“How is it?” she asked cutting in Newt’s rant.

Thomas shrugged, it burned enough for him to have stayed still, sat obediently on the bed exactly where she had left him.

“It’s fine,” he said, head high. He was not going to give Newt the satisfaction to know.

“Fine?!” scoffed the blond. Even Charlotte raised her eyebrows at the answer.

“It’s nothing,” gritted the immune.

Charlotte rolled her eyes, and stepped out taking her leave with a last sympathetic glance at Brenda who had been quietly leaning against the table in the back of the room.

“Why are you like this!” hissed Newt the moment she closed the door. “Don’t you care?”

“Are you asking me as President Council or my friend?” taunted Thomas.

“Both!” shrieked Newt. “You were reckless!”

Thomas didn’t answer stubbornly looking down.

“You can’t just run in front of someone who holds a knife,” exasperated Newt.

“They could have gravely harmed you, Thomas…” insisted Brenda. “There were other solutions.”

“It doesn’t matter,” railed Thomas. He didn’t ran from Newt’s glare, challenging him to contradict him. “I had to do something. It was my job. It worked, didn’t it?”

“Yeah,” drawled Newt, pushing his hands on his trousers to get some of the blood off. It didn’t work. “Sure. It doesn’t matter. Why am I even upset?!”

The same voice called again and with a last curse Newt stomped out of the room. “I’m here! Can’t you wait a bloody minute?!”

The door smashed behind him and Thomas breathed in maybe for the first time since the beginning of the night. Everything had moved so fast. It was bad but it could have been worst. They found out who had escape quarantine. But Thomas jut couldn’t stop thinking about what if it was too late already. What if they were going to get infected, like a filled glass crashing on the floor, it was spreading everywhere and there was nothing Thomas could do. He should have been more careful. He had risked everyone’s life.

Brenda stood up, walking to him seemly ready to resolve whatever was stuck inside Thomas’s head.

“It’s about him, right?” asked Brenda, her voice quiet and soft so different from Newt’s rant.

“Who?”

“Your boyfriend?” she drawled, knowingly placing the knife and twisting it. How could she always be so attentive.

“Can we not make a big deal out of this?” he asked trying to get some sympathy from the leaking bandage and current ridiculous pain shooting through his side.

“Oh, you want us not to make a big deal out of it?” she repeated on that unabashed smartass tone she used again and again in the Last City. “Like it’s not a big deal that you just got stab? Or hunted down by WCKD for months?” she taunted. “That just works so well.”

“It happened,” said Thomas, suddenly missing Newt incoherent scolding. It was painful to listen to but it didn’t sting as much as Brenda’s words. “It doesn’t matter,” he repeated uselessly, maybe more for her to understand she should let it go because now wasn’t the moment.

“You can’t continue like this Thomas,” she insisted. “It’s not a viable solution.”

“You don’t understand,” muttered the boy. His hands started shaking again. “You can’t.”

“What can’t I?” Brenda hissed. “I’m getting tired of people telling me that. I was not in the Maze!”

“You don’t understand!” Shouted Thomas. He wanted to stand, to leave. “It doesn’t matter, because I can’t lose this.”

“What?” choked Brenda, stepping back suddenly.

“You know! You do it too! Like if this doesn’t matter, it’s okay if something happens, because what’s important is that you are safe.”

“What?”

“Is it so crazy to think that I’m terrified to lose all of this?”

“You need to talk to him. He might let you get away with those shot of anger, but now that’s too much. It isn’t the first time it happens,” said Brenda probably referencing the past few events of Thomas jumping into danger without thinking. “He doesn’t to lose you neither. Don’t make him.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

1 Week later;

 

Thomas agreed but did nothing for it. As usual on this island, Minho, Brenda, everyone told him to decided what he wanted, what matter but Thomas kept on push back and farther each time. Now it was to late.

“You can not just do that!” hissed Newt following him into their room. Did it seem like they are constantly fighting? Because Thomas swore he was getting tired of it.

“Everybody agreed we need to go back there for material,” mediated Thomas, trying not to react at the blond sudden attack. “I just wanted to help. Vince needed people and I’ve got experience. I just thought it was a good idea!”

“A good idea? Going back to the Last City?” shouted Newt, trying to close the door without making the Council’s notes fall down from his arms. He was tired, and if Thomas didn’t have insider information it wasn’t hard to guess. The dark circles under his eyes was a constant feature now. It had been barely a week since one of the outsider escape and they didn’t sleep much since. The incident had send an up row within the Council, people started to question Newt’s choice to quarantine them. Fear was spreading as quick as a wild fire.

“You actually think that it’s a good idea?!” Newt laughed bitterly, turning around to find somewhere to put down his stack of papers.

“It’s a necessity.” Repeated Thomas brushing his tone away with a shrug. “You heard them.”

“They’ve been here for less than two weeks and you’re ready to trust them?!”

Thomas could feel that headache settle in just from Newt’s cold tone. “Can we not replay the debate we just had, please?”

The blond cursed, exasperated, his hand pushing through his hair. “Sure! Why don’t you tell me how long have you guys been thinking about it instead?” asked Newt throwing the folders on the desk.

“Just then!” spat Thomas. “Can you stop?”

“What about the boat?” Newt demanded turning around. “It hadn’t been voted yet that you already had started to load the boat? Are you in such hurry to leave? Or were you going to go through with that stupid plan regardless of the Council decision?”

“Obviously not!” Thomas sighed trying to breath through it. They were both exhausted.

“But we were sure it was going to pass. We need to fill the reserve before the winter,” explaind Thomas slowly, like they had said at the Council meeting. He followed Newt’s frantic movement around the room. “Vince went with what the greenbeans said and I just helped.”

“You just helped,” he scoffed but without the usual poison and with more resilience. He turned around again, looking for something. Thomas almost believed it was to hide his face, trying to do something else otherwise he might explode.

Thomas could keep his voice from raising up a bit more, “You should be talking to Vince if you’re unhappy with the way it was handled.”

“I don’t want to talk to Vince!” he answered, his voice trailing into high tones. His hand clasped on his mouth. Realising the edge they were standing on, Thomas actually stopped and took a step back. His hand ran in his hair.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” asked Newt, voice wet with tears.

“So, you complain we don’t follow the rules enough,” grumbled Thomas not daring to look up still. “And then ask me to bypass the Council protocol to give you first hand reports on the activity of departments outside your authority?”

Newt sat down on the bed with an audible sigh, they were so damn tired. They had had a long day, the four hour long surprised debate had just added another layer of drama that the day didn’t need. A debate that everyone, but the legislative branch, was aware of.

“FUck,” breathed out Newt, sounding a little less in shamble. “This wasn’t suppose to go like that.”

Thomas stared at him, in wonder. This was their worst fight. Newt did even look back and just stare at the floor.  
It was not their first fight. They fought about too many work related things and many petty ones. It wasn’t new, but before it was mostly stupid things if you listened Minho. Like that time Thomas went swimming in the middle of the night, or that time Thomas decided to climb a “bloody tree” to help build “god knows what” and fell of, or even how Newt had to stop spending all of his time trying to resolve everybody’s problems and to just come home and sleep.  
It was neither the first post-council fight they had. Council meetings were always complicated, bearing high stakes for their small community, leaving Newt exhausted and high strung. Even more so when they were personally arguing for different sides.  
Dealing with the consequences was never really a problem, and mostly involved Thomas pushing Newt against the nearest wall at the end of the day to make out until the blond was too breathless to find another counter-argument.  
Thomas might even have investigated one or two fight on purpose. Minho did roll his eyes a few times when the two of them came back after having stormed off the room, shouting at each others a few hours earlier.

But this one was different.

Newt had agree on the provision; sending a boat out to check on the continent, bringing some news about WCKD, informations on other immunes or survivors and some materials they could not find here. Find the missing members of the greenies. A week expedition to the continent. It was a sound proposition, Newt welcomed it, as did everybody else.

Thomas did not even know why they were fighting. Everything had started when Thomas started on the technicalities and planning. Thomas sighted knowing it might as well be a random mood swing from the other. Nobody was excepting them to be reasonable all hours of the day. Not with what they’d been through. They all managed somehow. Minho would still disappear on some of the worst days, not even letting Brenda in his cabin. Newt would stay in bed all morning and not whisper a word throughout the day or suddenly exploded in tears. It happened. Even him, Thomas would just not stopped running, suddenly ditching everything. Nobody was really fine, but justify this outbreak of tears and shouts. There was no reason to be fighting, and it was getting late.  
Thomas kneeled down, grabbing the bag under the bed. They were leaving tomorrow.

“You’re really going with them, then?” asked Newt playing with his sleeves, it was getting colder in evenings now.

“It’s a short trip,” brushed off Thomas, shaking the sand off the bag. It gets everywhere. “And I’m feeling fine.”

Newt did not look up. “Are you sure?” he asked, but Thomas did not acknowledge the vulnerability in his voice, to busy going through the bag and not wanting to start the fight back.

“They need me,” said Thomas.

“I need you,” mumbled Newt, almost too softly for Thomas to make out those two words. Before Thomas had the time to look up, the blond stood. “You’re right. They need you,” flatly declared Newt before storming out.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Thomas stood motionless before snapping out of it and tried to run after him, finding only that the blond could disappear quickly if he wanted. Minho watched him ran down to the square, an unimpressed rose eyebrow on his face.

“Have you seen Newt?” Asked Thomas not interest in his friend’s patronise comments.

Thomas was getting it anyway. “What did you do now?” chided Minho.

“Nothing!” Thomas searched the place for the messy blond hair of his friend. “He just stormed out! This is so childish, he needs to stop doing that.”

“You do that too,” commented Minho not at all understanding the urgency. Thomas just made a face at him.

“I don’t really care right now,” grumbled Thomas. “Do you know where he is?”

“I haven’t seen him,” answered Minho simply, hands in his pockets. “Is it because of the expedition?”

“No! He just-!” Thomas cursed under his breath, still looking around for those stupid blond hair. “I’ll tell you later, I just need to find him and finishing packing. If you see him, tell him I’m looking for him.”

He didn’t wait for an answer and left.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Newt was not at the beach, he was not crying at the edge of the camp, nor insulting Vince for whatever was his problem about the expedition, no, that idiot was casually chatting up with Harriet and Charlotte. The blond barely noticed Thomas approaching.

“Just don’t exhaust yourself, we just need a quick list to give them,” repeated Newt his hand brushing her shoulder completely compose. “I know we’re low on antibiotics, right?”

“Yeah…” nodded Charlotte. “Anything would help, I just don’t want to take up all their time there.”

“You won’t,” promised Newt.

“We’ll probably bring back anything we found but giving them a precise list might help concentrate our efforts,” supported Harriet. “Medical is our priority in this trip.”

“Can I steal Newt away for a moment?” Asked Thomas. Harriet and Charlotte did not wait for confirmation before steping aside with a polite, “We were finished anyway” and “I’ll be in the storage.”

Newt balanced his weight back and forth, watching his friend walk away without a second of hesitation. Thomas grabbed Newt’s wrist and pulled.

“You can’t just run off!” hissed Thomas under his breath once they were far enough diving straight in.

“I know…” Newt looked at least a bit ashamed, eyes on the floor. “I didn’t mean to shoot you down. You should go.”

Thomas frowned, trying to make sense of the blond’s words but also not wanting to make a scene in front of everyone. “What?”

“I was being stupid,” repeated Newt, pushing Thomas’s shoulder lightly, looking up but not yet meeting Thomas’s eyes. “They need you; You are experienced, always find your way around. You were right. Just be careful.”

All of the words were slowly making sense. Newt had just been worried. Why wouldn’t he be? Thomas bit his lips, regretting not having see it come around.

“It’s only a week,” reassured Thomas. “In and out, just-“

“Stop,” Cut off Newt, still not looking at him. He tried to rule his shaky breathing and put smile on his lips. “Just say you’ll be careful.”

Thomas nodded, before realising Newt was not looking at him. He grabbed his hand tugging him closer. “We will, I promise.”

Thomas leaned against his friend, letting their forehead touch.

“If you don’t come back…” muttered the blond, fingers clenching around Thomas’s hand. “If they lied, I’ll have them executed. I swear if they-”

Thomas kissed him silent before he could say another crazy thing.

“Great,” started off Newt, blushing slightly after Erik whistle at them. There were standing in the middle of the Main Hall after all. His hand ran on the back on his neck. Thomas tried to grab hiss arm but Newt moved away. “I need to go… I still have to find Sonya and check over a few things with Frypan, I’ll see you later?”

Newt did not wait for an answer, escaping from Thomas’s grasp and walking off to the kitchen.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

As he tiptoed back into their room, Thomas realised that “later” never really happened. Shivering from the cold wind blowing from the sea, he held close some of the tools Gally had lend him as he walked in the pitch dark room. It must have been around 4 or maybe 5am, the moon had been the only source of light for a while now and temperatures had dropped to settle to much lower degrees than it was pleasant to be walking around in.

Thomas was checking his bag a last time when someone called out his name and had to squint to see the tall man standing in front his cabin.

“Minho?” whispered Thomas. “Why are you up?”

“Good question…” sighted Minho, finally stepping in. He never waited long before falling asleep. Newt suspected it was because of the dark. The candles, the moon and the stars could only illuminate so much of the island, leaving them prisoner of the night’s obscurity with no way to turn the light back on. Thomas could only agree with it, after what Minho had been through in the lab. The little they actually talk about it, was enough for Thomas to accept any quirks Minho might have developed.

“I’m waiting on Brenda actually,” he explained, leaning against the door. “Which brings me to why I’m here. Can you please check on your idiot?”

“Newt?” Thomas stood up, only then realising that Newt wasn’t in bed. “Where is he?”

“You’re exhausting…” mumbled Minho with a painful sigh, hands coming up to his face. Thomas shrugged because it sounded a bit was unfair, but it was Minho talking so there must be some truth in it. “He’s worried.”

“I know…” lamented Thomas.

“He is really worried, Thomas.”

“I know!” exclaimed the ex-runner. “We talked about it, he said it’s fine.”

“Well, I think he has a point,” retorted Minho ignoring the tone, staring down at his friend. He had this calm, powerful voice and stand that just reminded Thomas of the first Glade council. Minho had lead the runners for a while in the Glade, burdening the knowledge that there was no way out of the Maze and still ordering the team of nervous teenagers.

“You shouldn’t go,” he said and Thomas almost wanted to look away like a child just getting scold by the principal. “You’re still recovering from your wounds and they’ll need everyone at their best. Plus, the Greenbeans heard about you than means people on the continent has heard about your blood. It would put a target on you and the whole team. If you were a runner, I’d ground you.”

“It would be a mistake because I’m fine.” Thomas himself could feel the hesitation behind his weak argument.

He didn’t wait for an answer and sat back down, repacking his bag one more time. Minho didn’t comment, letting Thomas fidget with his bag. Why was it so hard for them to understand? He had to go, we couldn’t let his friend, his people, the people that voted for him sail straight ahead in what could be a trap. He needed to see, he needed to be back on the continent, make sure it was safe, that WCKD was gone, so much to check and insure, nobody else could understand.

“Why do you want to go back so badly?” finally asked Minho. “We all remember what happened last time we were there.”

“Why?” scoffed the ex-runner, blood boiling with misunderstood anger. “I don’t want to go back, they need me!”

Minho rolled his eyes. “I’m coming too then,” he announced.

“What?! No!” Thomas’s heart started racing and he couldn’t stop himself from standing up again to face Minho. “That’s out of question.”

“See?” chuckled Minho, patting him on the shoulder. “You can’t ask us to react otherwise.”

“Stop it,” growled Thomas batting his hand away.

“I know there’s no stopping you. Just, the idea of you running around in the Last City? For some medication any other Shank can get?” teased Minho.“I don’t have to think hard about it to know it’s a bad idea.”

“Can you guys just chill?” exclaimed Thomas staring at the ceiling. “It’ll be fine.”

“You better come back, that’s all I’ll say,” warned Minho. He moved away from Thomas ready to take his leave. “Now, please, can you get Newt? We’ve been trying to talk him down for the past hour, and I just really want to go to bed.”

“What?” hissed Thomas. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“He’s at the beach.” Was all Minho had time to say before Thomas took off running.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The wind was pulling on the palm trees, the waves growling and tearing at the sand beach at this time of the night. Thomas rushed to the beach leaving the light and warm of the camp behind. As a rule they were told to keep away from that area, as anyone getting caught in its swirls wouldn’t survive. Thomas’s feet were skinning a deeper into the cool sand when he heard Brenda’s hushed voice.

“Just let me get Thomas,” she repeated softly but without any real inflexion like she already knew the answer.

Thomas was close enough to hear Newt flimsy answer, his face hidden against his arms, his knees pressed against his chest. The blanket was a clear sign of what had gone down, and felt like cold iced water just got thrown at his face.

“Don’t,” sobbed Newt somehow managing enough resolution and stubbornness that no one dared to disobey.

Sonya was there too, all sitting in the sand next to Newt in her pyjama and Harriet’s borrowed jacket. She was the first to see Thomas hovering like an idiot at the edge of the little group. From the glare she fired to him, it seemed clear that he was not getting any support from her.

“Just breath,” mumbled Brenda, tiredness dripping through her voice.

Sonya hummed in agreement, fingers running the blond’s hair but her eyes were fixed on Thomas, almost taunting him to approach.

“Hey guys,” mumbled Thomas kneeling down in front of the little group. Newt didn’t react and kept his head down.

Thomas didn’t wait for Sonya to stop throwing daggers and showing her teeth like some feral animal to slowly reach for Newt’s arm.

Brenda looked relieved of his arrival and sigh softly. “We’ll let you talk,” she mouthed with reassuring smile for Thomas.

Sonya was harder to convince. The two siblings had become much closer after the election. It was not like they had any idea how to interact, but their friendship had slowly build-up to the point Sonya would not hesitate to jump of WCKD tower or fight her way through the whole Council to protect her brother.  
Their relation was better off now that Newt had talked to her. Thomas had moved from enemy number one to an dubious contingency she had to keep an eye one. When she finally stood, Thomas could feel the threat hanging over his head. He’d better fix whatever was going on or the Last City would be the least of his worry tomorrow.

Brenda gave him a thump up for encouragement as they moved away.

Newt had finally looked up watching his friend walked away into the dark, pulling the blanket tighter against himself.

“I’m sorry… This is so pathetic…” he mumbled trying to remove the tears and erase every trace of it uselessly as tears kept on coming unwillingly.

“What’s going on?” the ex-runner urged his friend.

“You just-“ cried Newt. “It’s not- I really tried, but I’m not the same as before… I can’t make those decisions anymore. I’m constantly terrified and I don’t want to risk anything anymore. And I can’t just stand there and-!”

“What? What decisions?” Thomas was barely making out the words lost between Newt’s irregular breathing and muffled voice as quiet tears turned into panicked bursts.

“I know you want to go. But please don’t,” cried Newt hiding his face into his hands. “Please, just don’t.”

Thomas couldn’t find his words for a moment, hearing the same sounds that in the Last City and he hated it. Thomas tried to ignore it and focus on stopping the tears from falling.

“I’m so sorry…”

“Hey, don’t… It’s okay,” hushed Thomas tugging Newt against him, as he could physically take the pain away. His hand took Sonya’s place in Newt’s hair, not really sure what else to do and counted the seconds until he would calm down.  
The tears slowed and Newt started to breath again.

“I’ll be careful,” tried Thomas again pushing from blond strands behind his ear, trying to push back the memories and the fear.

“I know,” he answered, eyes filled his fear before pushing his face back against Thomas’s neck. “I’m sorry… It’s like there is smoke filling up my brain sometimes and I can’t think, just worry. I’m never sure if I’m overreacting, or not… I feel so stupid now.”

“It’s okay,” tried to smooth Thomas, fingers brushing away most of the tears from Newt’s cheeks.

“I’ll come with you next time, then?” proposed Newt with a smile.

“What? No!” Shouted Thomas hands falling to his sides. “You’re not going! I almost lost you once. This isn’t happening!”

“I almost lost you too!” hissed Newt, pushing Thomas to the sand as he stood up. “WKCD might still be around, and we know that people are looking for you, but no! It’s me who has to worry to death about you and stay here, while you try to save the world again! Haven’t you had enough?”

“Newt-“ Started Thomas standing up.

“Why do you want to go back there so much?” asked Newt stepped back from him. “Are you going to look for survivors because you feel guilty? Is it because of Teresa? Because of your blood? Are you even planning on coming back?” his voice cracked on that last question.

“Newt! Obviously, I’m coming back!” shouted Thomas grabbing Newt’s shoulders. He tried to stepped back but Thomas cupped his face between his hands. “It’s for you!”

Newt stood speechless.

“You’re right! I want to find WKCD,” echoed Thomas. “I want to make sure you’re cured.”

“Tommy?” started Newt before stopping himself, too confuse to come up with an appropriate answer. He searched for words lost seemingly between the moral obligation to shout and the need to cry.

“I’m not going to sit around waiting for you to die on me again.” explained Thomas, fire in his eyes. “I will not listen to you beg for me to kill you again!”

“Tommy,” said Newt stepping closer. “We can’t stop those things from happening. We don’t need to go back looking for a cure, we need to stop living like this. I’m not leaving you.”

Thomas wrapped the blond in his arms. “No. I am telling you; I am not losing you.”

Thomas kept his arms lock around the blond’s waist. He was not letting go, not now.

“We’re ridiculous,” chuckled Newt against the other’s shoulder. Thomas just held on tighter.

“I’m fine, and if that changes, we’ll find something else,” assured Newt. “But don’t go there for that reason, we have so much time, we have other cures.”

“I just… I just can’t continue,” mumbled Thomas in the blond’s hair. “I keep on dreaming about you, turning, with the veins everywhere and I can’t do anything. You just beg me to kill you and I can’t! It’s just-“

“It’s only a dream, Tommy,” whispered Newt. “I’m fine now but nightmares won’t go away because you engage in another suicide mission. You’re still healing from the knife wound, you don’t have to go now. We have all the time we need.”

Cutting off Thomas stubborn answer the wind picked up once again and rain started to pour. The boys barely had time to realise what was happening that the heavy drops had already soaked them both. The first time it had, everybody had started laughing and running through the tropical rain. It was a big change from the Scorch and the horrid weather of the Last City.  
After a time, it was not much more than an inconvenience that the camp had to work around but Newt could never stop enjoying the feeling of the chilled rain cooling down oppressive hot air. He couldn’t stop remembering the God send afternoon rain drenching the Glade, blurring up everything around them until they almost couldn’t see the wall locking them in.  
Thomas probably decided he had had enough of being amazed by water and dragged Newt back to their room.

“Newt,” mumbled Thomas, hands playing with the necklace after tried to dry most of their clothes without much success. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t do it.”

Newt stopped in his tracks, turning to his friend. Raining was hitting the walls around them hard enough to build a suffocating white noise in the little room.

“I’m scared I can never do it,” Added Thomas eyes fixed on the necklace.

“I should never have asked you.”

Thomas didn’t look up, eyes fixed on what used to contain the letter and Newt’s last words. “I won’t let it happen again,” he swore.

“Tommy, you don’t need to-”

“I promise you,” Repeated Thomas standing up from the little chair and crossing the space separating them. “I’ll keep you safe.”

Newt grabbed Thomas’s hand locked on the necklace. He didn’t let go but Newt did want him to.

“You’re not getting ride of me, Tommy,” smiled Newt, bitting his lips. “I told you I’d follow you anywhere.”

He let Newt grab the necklace and discard it on the table, suddenly forgotten and hopefully buried away with the rest of their mistakes and regrets. Thomas tried not to roll his eyes, but he swears Newt’s smiles are contagious because he couldn’t stop his own and pushed Newt away.

“Someone needs to stop you from following through with those stupid ideas you keep on getting, after all!” Newt laughed and after all those tears it was the sweetest sound.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The sun was up, warm over the cool sand and wet soil. Minho started stretching trying to push away any of the things he had to face today. Thomas was leaving today with the boat. It was going to be long and he’d better conserve his strength.

He raised an eyebrow seeing Thomas walk up to him.

“I didn’t think you’ll join today,” welcomed Minho badly hiding concern in his voice, instead of the usual banter they would undertake before started their morning runs.

“Well, I have time.” He shrugged, evading on the subject but Minho just waited for it. He could barely stop his smile from forming.

“I’m not going,” announced Thomas.

Minho couldn’t hide his smirk.

“What?”

“I just won,” danced Minho across the path. “Brenda bet that Newt was going to make a scene on the boat to stop you from going. But, I knew for a fact that you wouldn’t even last the night.”

Thomas wasn’t sure to be offended or amused and stared at his friend in wonder.

“Oh come!” teased Minho. “We both know, you can resist those brown eyes.”

“Slim it,” chided Thomas. “That’s not true. I’m still healing, it was a stupid idea…”

But Minho wasn’t interesting in listening to Thomas, started running not waiting for his friend who struggled to catch up.

Maybe this was the first time that Minho realised. Maybe this was going to be fine. Maybe they could actually do it together.  
His friends had woken up after it all. They had woken up and things hadn’t gone their way all the time, but somehow they had made it through. Damn him but Minho was going to make most of it.

 

 

* * *

 

2 Year later;

 

“No.”

“Come on!” whined Thomas. “We’ve been talking about it for a year now!”

“Tommy, we’re like teenagers still…”

“We’re not!” laughed Thomas at that childish argument.

Newt let the bowls into the sink and turned around. “We work all day long!”

“That’s only because we never really want stop,” tried Thomas coming up next to Newt. “Come on! She is so alone. She says she doesn’t even have a name! I am the only one she agrees to talk to, it’s breaking my heart to know she is sleeping alone on that boat at night.”

Newt could not even look at him in the eyes, and turned back to continue washing the dishes. Thomas had gone to the continent with Minho a few times now and had just came back with refugees and goods. Refugees , goods and a little girl. Obviously she had taken into liking Thomas, who wouldn’t? She was 12 and had refused to leave the ship. Not even realising that he was cleaning the same cup again and again, Thomas grabbed it off his hands.

“What’s going on?”

Newt shrugged uselessly. “Are you sure we’re up for it? What if things go bad again?” mumbled Newt. “What if we’re, that I’m a bad parent?”

“A bad parent?” echoed Thomas.

“I jumped of a wall, remember?” joked the blond bitterly.

“Newt, I went off on a vendetta that destroyed the Last working City on the planet,” scolded Thomas seriously trying to shake Newt out of his pity party.

“Exactly!” said Newt turning back to continue the dishes, handing some wet bowl at Thomas for him to get on with drying it up. “Maybe none of us should approach that kid.”

“We’ve been over that… I’ve been head of Security since like we invented the job. You’ve been an elected Member of the Council for the past two years, President of the Council on two different mandates,” Thomas elbowed his friend, meticulously engrossed in continuing the dishes. “You are the most responsible Gladder on that bloody island.”

“We don’t have the first idea about parenting,” countered the blond.

“If there is anyone I trust about raising a child, is you,” Thomas grabbed the blond’s hands tugging him toward him away from the bucket. “You’ll do wonderfully, and if you can’t, I’ll be there to make sure everything ends up okay.”

Newt tried to glare but it wasn’t working.

“We do need to start straight away with bad cop/good cop, because I swear I’ll never be able to scold her.”

“This can’t be real,” smiled Newt looking up to the ceiling. Anyone who would have told him he was going to be having dinner with Newt and nagging him about adopting a child would be his life two year ago, he would have laughed at their face.

“I want to meet her first,” sighted Newt trying to glare but Thomas had became unaffected by them by now.

“Yah!” shouted Thomas, hands jumping in the air. “We’re adopting her!”

“I did not say that-” tried Newt but there was no point in trying to tame Thomas enthusiasm.

“Sure honey,” teased Thomas. “You’re going to see her, her adorable face, how small she is, and how she is alone and then decide that ‘no,’ we’re going to leave her there.”

Newt didn’t hesitate and threw a handful of water at Thomas. He had to make himself be respected in some ways but the ex-runner didn’t back down from a easy fight rolling them both to the floor. Newt actually escape and make a run for the pillow only offering Thomas with the opportunity to tackle and tickle him on the bed.

“Can’t wait for tomorrow morning. Minho will be enraged when I’ll tell him,” smirked Thomas who sat comfortably straddling his giggling friend.

“Oh, so that’s what’s all about,” laughed Newt hands pinned down. “Is there some kind of competition going on?”

“Totally,” laughed Thomas. “After all this time I just can’t believe Brenda got pregnant, and you still aren’t.”

“You did not just say that,” Newt exclaimed incredulous.

“I might have,” Thomas taunted with a smirk. “What are you going to do about it?”

“It’s over,” he announced with a badly contained smile getting out of Thomas’s grasp. “I want the house, and a divorce!”

“Then, I claim the bed!” and on those words, Thomas pushed him off the bed unceremously.

The ex-runner looked down to see Newt still laying on the floor both unable to stop laughing. Easily Thomas give him a hand to crawl back on the bed.

“You know I love you, right?” mumbled Thomas, as his friend sat straighter on the bed facing him.

Newt didn’t answer, pulling his boyfriend close to kiss him instead.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Frypan never puts carrots in it,” chided Newt looking over Thomas’s shoulder.

The ex-runner didn’t look up from the pot, stirring the stew methodically.

“Well, I do,” he declared, trying to get Newt away from the stone. He knew what he was doing mind you!

“It’s going to be too sweet,” assured the blond a last time, before going back to setting the table.

“Trust my instincts,” Thomas gloated. “I got us out of the Glade, didn’t I?”

Newt was going to comment on the titanic work the Runners had undertook before Thomas the Great Saviour had showed up but it was cut short.  
The door opened and a second later none of them saw the little thing rushing through the room to jump into Newt’s arms. Marie always had a way to waltz into the house without much of a warning. She was a stubborn child with no time for mercy, always ready to follow Thomas in hazardous adventure. Much to his distress, she would resist the longest during staring contests against Newt.

“How was your day?” asked Newt as she rushed over to give Thomas their secret handshakes. “How was school?”

“Cool!” She giggled. “And Great!”

“Any homework?” called out Newt as Marie bolted from the table with a stolen piece bread going straight for her bedroom to leave her bag and pile of books.

She came back rushing to the table for more bread.

“Can I go to the park with my friends after dinner?” Marie whispered to Newt, knowing he was a easy win.

“Sure, not after sunset though.”

“But Frederick is allowed out after dark!” she whined like Newt was being annoying in his rules.

“Frederick?” repeated Thomas turning away from the stove. “Your little classmate you keep on telling us about?”

Marie turned red, stopping in her tracks to glare at Thomas. “Maybe…” she taunted.

“Is he cute?” teased Thomas. “Can we meet him?”

“No!” Marie insisted, running around the table. Thomas didn’t give her the chance to hide behind Newt and tackled her, tickling her to tears.

Laughter erupted in the house and Newt took over the stew until peace came back. They didn’t have time for it though because as soon as it was done, Sonya barged in.

“Minho fainted!” she shouted, dishevelled and breathless.

Thomas held Marie close against him as Sonya jittered by the door, not giving more information. She was staring at them excepting some reaction obviously too shocked to think it through.

“And is he okay?” urged her brother.

“Yes!!” Sonya laughed. “Brenda’s having the baby!”

Thomas threw Mary in the air for good manner as Newt gasped at the news, “No way!”

“Just go!” urged Sonya tugging her brother to the door. “I’ll walk with Marie!”

The boys rushed to the medical tent. Marie grabbed Sonya’s hand naturally following the path quietly. The two girls made their way down slowly, as excitation could be felt around the camp.

“Is Auntie Brenda okay?” asked Marie holding on tight to Sonya’s hand as they heard Brenda ordering Minho out of the tent. Minho sat down incredulous on a near by bench while Newt patted his back with some smoothing words.

“Yeah…” smiled Sonya. “She’ll be. Though I think Uncle Minho will need a hug.”

Marie squealed rushing down to tackle her uncle into a massive hug. Sonya stared amazed at her family and friends wondering how could something that had started so terribly, ended up to be so wonderful.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s it!
> 
> I’m not very happy with the ending but it had to be done...  
> Thank you so much for putting up with all that bad grammar and confusing non-sense. As it is common say, I tried and therefore I should not be blamed.  
> Marie is for Mary Cooper, the member of Right Arm as pictured in the movie. I guess Mary would still be some kind of hero for them, so guess it makes sense?  
> Anyway hope you liked it. Have a nice day!
> 
>  
> 
> Also there is a hidden Star War reference. Who ever finds it, you’re a legend.
> 
> Chapter’s inspiration in order:  
> Waking Up Slow by Gabrielle Alpin.  
> Photograph by Ed Sheeran.  
> Somebody Else by Flora Cash.  
> Don’t Keep Driving by the Paper Kites.  
> Next to me by Imagine Dragons.  
> Heavenly Day by Patty Griffin.


End file.
